


Unfading

by amaranthpirate



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Bad Flirting, Childhood Friends, Crew as Family, Dissociation, Emotional Manipulation, Eventual recovery, F/F, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Sex, Kissing, Memory Loss, Physical Abuse, Pirates, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Self-Harm, Slavery, Survivor Guilt, Tieflings, Violence, person trafficking, tragic backstory
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-09
Updated: 2018-12-09
Packaged: 2019-09-15 00:02:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 9
Words: 27,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16922901
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amaranthpirate/pseuds/amaranthpirate
Summary: am·a·ranth | \ˈa-mə-ˌran(t)th: a flower that never fades.Before Amaranth met her party, she was a pirate captain, with a ship that stood for fury and freedom. Before that, she came from a place of darkness, where her freedom was taken from her. This is the story of what sparked the fire within her, and her rise and fall, to fight and burn for what she believes in.





	1. Nowhere

* * *

 

_Amaranth was once kept in darkness. Somewhere with no sky, no breeze, no light. She doesn’t remember much from that time. Yet some part of her has never forgotten._

_Before that, Amaranth once had a family. She doesn’t remember much from that time either. She has a vague impression of warmth and safety. Her mother’s red tail tucking a thin blanket around her form. Her father singing softly to her in Infernal, the language that meant familiarity and home. Sometimes she would try and remember more, and felt both pain and warmth, like placing her hand on the open flame of a candle._

_But perhaps it was better if she didn’t try so hard to remember. To keep whatever small remnants of that time preserved, like a precious old flower pressed between the pages of a tome. She couldn’t touch it, expose it too much, because it would inevitably crumble away._

_Amaranth didn’t think about the time she was kept in the dark. There wasn’t much she remembered, even if she wanted to. It blurred in her mind, like smeared inky words on parchment. The little she recalled from that small eternity, was the cold bars of the cage that imprisoned her. Sometimes she wondered how much time she had lost. She didn’t fully know what happened, what was done to her. But perhaps it was better that way._

_As years went by, she pressed it fathoms deep, deeper into her mind. It rose from the depths on nights of suffocating dreams. Sometimes the roiling darkness would crash into her like a black wave when she couldn’t_ escape _, couldn’t_ get away.

 _When the black wave would recede,_ fury _would rush in to take its place, and she reveled in it._

* * *

 

The first thing that struck her about The Rat was his eyes. They were cold and hard and gray, mirroring the steel cage she was huddled in. He was a middle-aged human, with a handsome yet gaunt face. His graying dark hair was slicked back, with a sharp goatee. He wore a fine silken cloak and jewelry. Rings adorned his fingers, and gold dangled from his ears. Amaranth stared at the shining jewelry. They almost hurt to look at.

His gray eyes surveyed her, and she pressed herself into the corner of the cage, attempting to hide in the shadows from the piercing gaze. ( _When she was in the_ _darkness, she found she could move the shadows imperceptibly, she could wrap them around herself like a thin blanket. They were her familiar comfort, she would sink into them, trying to become invisible)._ A fog had risen protectively around her mind. It had been there for a long while now. It allowed her to watch him, detached. She saw him speak to someone else in the room, but the words sounded muddled and strange. She saw the coins exchange hands. She waited for what would happen to her.

The cage door opened. Amaranth went with him without a fight, or a word. It was as though she were partially moving through a dream as she was taken far away from…there.

-

Looking back, she supposed it could have been much, much worse. She could have been bought with much more sinister purposes in mind. When she was living under the Rat, he would remind her of this regularly. Tell her terrible, terrible things of what was done to others who had their freedoms stripped from them.

Years later, she saw it for herself. And she killed those who perpetrated it.

-

“You’re safe now,” the stranger told her.

Amaranth followed him, mutely. The world swayed and her legs trembled. He could have been lying, of course. But she didn’t have a choice. There wasn’t anything she could do, she had no idea where he was taking her. But she found she didn’t care as long as she was away from that suffocating darkness.

Her legs gave out in their weakened state, and she stumbled. Before she hit the pavement, a gloved hand caught her. For the first time she looked up, and she noticed that there were three figures in dark garments flanking her. They nearly blended in with the shadows. On each of their cloaks was a small pin with an insignia of a rat.

Amaranth felt a surge of blind panic as one of the mysterious figures picked her up. She fought only for a moment before going limp with fatigue. They didn’t say a word to her, continuing to carry her as they walked.

“Don’t struggle,” the man said casually. “You’ll just exhaust yourself further.”

As they walked on, the man spoke to the figure next to him, and Amaranth could only hear snatches of what he was saying. “… in piteous condition. I don’t need another investment going to waste like the last one.”

Amaranth didn’t understand what was being said, so she peered at the surroundings going by. She realized they had somehow descended into an underground tunnel. There was splashing as they walked through shallow water, and the soft scuttling noises of critters fleeing their presence. She put together that they were in the sewers. It was nearly pitch-black. Amaranth heard the steady dripping of water echoing down the tunnels.

After a while, the man spoke to her again. “Now that we’re out of the open, we can talk more freely.”

She didn’t reply, still concentrating on the sounds of the water.

“My name is Callen, or as many know me by, The Rat. Rather crude I admit, but I’ve grown to appreciate the name. Rats have many advantages in places like this.” There was a _fwoosh_ , and one of the cloaked figures lit a torch, illuminating the dark, empty sewer. Amaranth flinched in pain from the sudden brightness. The flame reflected off the pools of water in the cool underground.

“They can hide in the shadows when needed. Sneak, steal, travel through the darkest, untouchable parts of the city. They can be invisible, out of sight and out of mind. They may be looked down on for these traits, but they are the ones who survive.”

Callen looked over at her for the first time.

“These are the methods I adopted in my organization, The Unseen. You belong to it now, and by extension, belong to me. Is that understood?”

She nodded, wordlessly.

“You will be trained, and as long as you follow the orders given, you will be fed and protected from what would have been your fate had I not hand-picked you as a new recruit. If you are disobedient, you will be punished. Understand?”

Amaranth was frozen, staring at him in fear.

“Answer me when I ask you a question,” Callen said, a dangerous edge in his voice. Amaranth nodded again, shrinking from his gaze. He seemed satisfied with her response, and turned away again, as though he had said what he needed to and was now uninterested in her. 

The damp air caused her to shiver, and she lost track of how many corners they had turned in the seemingly endless maze of the sewer. They came to an abrupt halt, and another cloaked figure gave a complex series of knocks on a stone on the wall. There was a crunching noise of shifting stone, and the wall opened. As they entered, the tunnel opened to a large cavern.

A hideout had been constructed within, with wooden balconies, tents, entrances and exits. The only sources of light were the torches flickering on the walls. There were a number of people, similarly dressed in dark robes and cloaks, carrying chests and crates, quickly moving up and down ladders, loading strange looking weapons. Amaranth stared, unable to process it all at once.

“Bring this one to the quarters for tonight, with the others,” she heard Callen say to the person that held her. When Amaranth looked toward him, he had vanished somewhere into the cavern with the other cloaked individuals.

The ‘others’ she found out were children. Some were her age, some looked older, in their teenage years. She was set down, and she wobbled for a moment. They whispered to each other, smirking, or looking grim. While they appeared perhaps a bit unkempt in their various dark colored clothing, they looked healthy, fed. She straightened up and met their inquisitive looks, trying not to let the shame she felt show, of the tattered rags she wore and her exposed emaciated frame. There were about a dozen total, most human, some with what looked like dwarven or halfling ancestry.

It was then that she caught the eye of one of them. Another tiefling, he looked about her age. He had royal purple skin, coal black hair, and horns curling to the side, like a ram. His eyes were blue like the sky, and she thought momentarily of her mother.

“Raenon,” the man said sharply. “Take this one to the quarters. She needs rest.”

The young tiefling nodded, and motioned to her. She followed wordlessly.

“What’s your name,” Raenon asked. He spoke to her in Infernal.   

“Amaranth,” she said.

He nodded, and they continued in silence. Amaranth’s weak legs give out again, and Raenon caught her, trying to steady her as best he could.

“Easy,” he said gently. “We’re almost there.” He pushed aside a curtain, and led her into a medium-sized alcove in the side of the cavern. It was a darkened sparse room with a few cots and bunks.

“These are the sleeping quarters,” Raenon told her. “You can have one of the cots.”

Amaranth collapsed onto one of them. The cot was thin and worn, but it may has well have been the softest thing in the universe right then. She curled up, wrapping her tail around herself. It was automatic, the motion. She didn’t want to touch the freezing bars of the cage. Then she realized she had space to stretch out. It felt strange that she had the freedom to do so. Almost too much.

She heard Raenon walk away. She wasn’t sure how much time passed before he came back. A bowl was placed in front of her line of vision. It smelled good.

“I got you some soup. You look hungry.”

Amaranth knew on some level she should be starving. When she was…there, they had given her some sort of gruel, stale bread. It wasn’t anything of sustenance. But she didn’t feel hungry.

The fog clouded her mind. She stared at her own hand. It didn’t feel like hers. Like it was disconnected from her, someone else’s.  

Raenon sat next to her for a while. “It’ll get better with time, Amaranth. I remember my first night here. It was terrible. But I learned to get used to it. The Rat feeds us, gives us a place to sleep. It’s not so bad.”

She didn’t respond.

“My name’s Raenon, but most of my friends call me Rae. You can call me that too. My Virtue name is Truth.”

Amaranth thought he seemed too young to have a Virtue name.

He was quiet for a minute. “Do you have a Virtue chosen?”

She didn’t. She had also considered herself too young to have chosen one Before. She stared up at the cracked ceiling, and thought perhaps she should be screaming, sobbing, cursing. But she didn’t feel a thing.

“Nowhere,” she answered.

It was the name she gave to them, and it is what they called her. Rae was the only one who called her Amaranth.

 


	2. The Unseen

“As part of the Unseen, your job is to follow the orders given to you. No questions, no protests. Bring back whatever you are ordered to. If we find out you’re keeping secrets, hidin’ any loot, you’ll be dealt with.”

Amaranth listened to the Unseen member as she nervously affixed her black cloak in place. It had been a few days since she had been taken to the underground. They had tattooed her shoulder, close to the collarbone. The same insignia that was on the cloak pins she had seen that night, in the semblance of a rat. It was the mark of the Unseen, binding her to the organization. She was told the tattoo allowed her movements to be tracked, her whereabouts to be known at all times.

“If you try to run, we’ll know. And being alone in the streets of this part of Vanthil for someone like you, well,” he smirked at her. “They’re not very forgivin’. You’d be eaten alive.”

Amaranth shuddered at the thought. If the Rat hadn’t saved her, she… she didn’t want to think of it. She owed him, didn’t she? And it wasn’t as though she had much of a choice.

And as the days turned into weeks, Callen was true to his word. She was fed, sheltered, protected from what lay on the outside. From bad things. Things she didn’t want to remember. She didn’t see much of him since the day she had arrived there. He seemed an almost mythic figure to her, untouchable. She regarded him as her rescuer,  with a mixture of admiration and fear, and perhaps some envy.

In those early weeks, Rae was the only one she would speak to. They would whisper to each other in Infernal as the other children slept. He would comfort her when she would stifle her sobs in the middle of the night. Sometimes she would wake up, whimpering in Infernal for her parents. One such night, Rae was trying to calm her down again as she trembled.

“Gods, can you shut her up? It’s the third time this week,” a gangly red-haired boy groaned. Amaranth curled up against Rae, shaking. Some of the other children had also woken up, rubbing their eyes and grumbling.

“Why don’t you go fuck yourself, Gil,” Rae said coldly, as he rubbed her back, his tail draped around her.

“Why don’t you go suck a dick, Rae.”

“Can both of you shut the fuck up, or a guard’s gonna come in here again and then all our asses are in trouble,” another voice complained.  

“I bet she was crying for her mommy,” Gil scoffed. “The newbie will never toughen up if you keep coddling her like a little baby.”

“Just leave her alone, Gil,” a half-dwarven girl snapped. She looked a little older than Amaranth, had curly chestnut brown hair and dark brown eyes. She had been sleeping next to Amaranth and Rae and had groggily woken up from the commotion. “It’s not like _you_ didn’t spend your first week waking up and pissing the cot every night. So stop pretending like you’re the toughest shit in here, and mind your own fucking business.”

Some of the other children snickered. Gil’s face flushed and he muttered something unintelligible, before quickly lying down back in his cot.

“Thanks Nora,” Rae sighed.

“Yeah, no problem.” Nora glanced at Amaranth and smiled. “Don’t worry about Gil. He can be a real shithead sometimes.” Amaranth sniffed and wiped her face with her sleeve, but gave a slight smile back. Nora settled back to go to sleep along with everyone else. Eventually Amaranth felt her eyes grow heavy and then close, as she listened to Rae’s steady heartbeat and his soft murmuring in Infernal.

Rae was what made those days bearable, as she slowly recovered. And soon, she found her voice. And she threw herself into her new role with all she had. It was about survival. She wanted a new identity for herself, she wanted to move on. To forget.

-

Her time there wasn’t easy, but there were moments that were like pieces of gold shining through mud. Most of the firsts in her life happened there, where she was taught to steal and survive.

The first time she stole was from an elderly human noble. She, Rae and Nora, were out on assignment. It was one of the first missions Amaranth had been given, and she was started off with simpler orders. Go to the Uptown District, find a target, and steal. She was determined not to go back empty handed. Or worse, be caught.

Rae and Nora caused a diversion in front of an elegantly dressed noble. As he was distracted and shooing the two other urchins away in disgust, Amaranth slipped the bag of coins from his pocket with ease. A thrill of excitement went through her. For a moment, the gold belonged to her. Then she remembered The Rat expected his pay, and her heart sank. Yet, she tasted that small bit of freedom, and she thirsted for _more_.

The first time she choked down alcohol was with Nora. They had pilfered a bottle from a passing merchant carriage during one of their thieving missions. The merchant had spotted them, and they ran through the crowd, laughing as he hollered curses after them. When they stopped, it was in the shadow of the district temple, a large ornate building that was both beautiful and formidable. The two of them took turns passing the bottle back and forth, giggling to each other. Amaranth liked how the drink warmed her, even though the taste was bitter.

It was there they shared a kiss, Amaranth’s first kiss, and she felt the roughness of Nora’s beard growing in. Nora took Amaranth’s hand and led her into the silent dark temple, and more firsts were had that night.

The first time she saw a Bard was when she was in Vanthil’s wealthy Uptown district, searching for potential people to pickpocket. She was pressing through the bustling streets, when she heard a voice, singing strong and sweet over the crowd. She paused momentarily forgetting to find a target to steal from, and curious at where the song was coming from. A halfling stood in the street, singing with a grin on his face and wearing unkempt but sharp and bright clothes. The crowd hurried around him, mostly ignoring him, some pausing briefly to listen, before continuing on. For many of them, he was just another panhandler. Amaranth didn't recognize the song, and it was rare for her to hear one. The melody was almost like gold itself, and burned like a heartache. As he sang, he was juggling _colors_. Or so it seemed like to her, whatever he had in his hands had become a dizzying blur of rainbow sparkling energy. And it was one of the most beautiful things she’d seen.

She was mesmerized, and for a moment forgot everything else. The juggling and singing stopped, and Amaranth realized she was blinking back tears. The few people who had stopped to watch him clapped lukewarmly. He bowed low, and thanked them. He held out his hat to receive coin. He was tossed a coin or two, as the individuals went on their way, chuckling to each other at the quaintness of it. The halfling's eyes locked onto Amaranth’s. He smiled warmly at her. She froze, not knowing what to do. Usually people acted as though she were invisible, or if spared a glance, it was disgust and suspicion. He gestured her forward, and she went without even thinking.

“I have a gift for you,” he said. Her yellow eyes narrowed, wary. Since when did anyone give her a gift, especially a complete stranger?

“Take these,” he handed her a small silver box from his pocket. The box was beautifully decorated with intricate designs, precious stones embedded into the exterior. She stared at it, dumbfounded. The box alone could go for a good sixty gold or more. She opened it, and three metallic balls sat inside, shimmering with a sheen of gold. She picked one up, and it was unexpectedly light, and soft. They were squishy to the touch.

“These are what I used when I first started learning.”

She opened her mouth to say something, maybe thank him, but she was rendered speechless. She had never received a gift like this before. When she looked back up to him, he had disappeared into the crowd. She glanced around and quickly shoved the box into the folds of her cloak. When she arrived back at the Unseen’s base of operations, she handed over the routine collection of the spoils she had stolen. It wasn’t a strong haul, and didn’t meet the expected quota. A few measly copper and silver coins at best. Amaranth looked at the ground, knowing she would be disciplined for her piteous offering. She kept the box hidden.

She would practice with the juggling balls in the few rare moments she had herself, usually sitting in the shadows of a rooftop or alleyway. She used the magic in her blood, it could do little more than create noises and colorful lights for a short minute, but she would bring it forth to mimic what she had seen the Bard do that day. It was the only time she used the magic to make something beautiful, instead of for misdirection and distraction like she was taught.

She never told anyone about the encounter. It was a secret, that was hers and hers alone. No one could take it from her, not even The Rat.

Years later, she sometimes wondered what caused her to catch the halfling’s eye, and why he would give her that gift. Maybe she seemed out of place in that part of town, or maybe he saw something of himself reflected in her. And although she would practice less, she would take one out and feel the solid texture in her hands, and it would help her remember that there was some kindness in the world.

-

The first time she saw the ocean was through the pages of a picture book. She and Rae escaped onto a roof, waiting for the guards pursuing them to run by. Once they were in the clear, they sighed in relief. Night had fallen and the stars shone bright in the dark sky. Amaranth breathed in the fresh air. She always looked forward to these missions outside of the confining underground tunnels. As they stopped to rest, she rummaged through her satchel.

“Look what I got,” Amaranth grinned, pulling out her prize. It was a beautifully bound leather book, large enough to barely fit into her bag.

“Where did you find that,” Rae asked, a bit alarmed. “You were supposed to grab the enchanted necklace, and that’s it!”

Amaranth shrugged and placed the book on her lap. “I saw it in the kid’s room,” was all she said. She had taken it on impulse. She watched from her hiding place outside the window as the mother sat down next to her child, tucking them in. The mother opened the book, reading to the child until they drifted off to sleep. Then she leaned down and kissed them, before returning the book to the shelf and leaving the room. As Amaranth watched from where she was hiding, anger and jealousy stirred in her chest.

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that this child got to sleep safe and warm, that their mother was there to tuck them in, _it wasn’t fair._

So as the child slept, Amaranth snuck into the room and stole the book. The small sense of autonomy outweighed her guilt.

“It’s not like they’ll miss it anyway. There was a bunch of ‘em.” Amaranth muttered.

Rae sighed. “A book like this, especially if it was taken from a noble, could have been commissioned as a gift for the kid. Probably for a good amount of gold, too. But reselling it…” Rae continued talking, his interest in rare valuables and items seemingly piqued by the book.

Amaranth wasn’t listening. She had opened it, and suddenly she was fixated by what she saw on the pages. The text was illuminated with decorative gold leaf text, with small ornate paintings displaying vast oceans and magnificent ships in vibrant color and detail. Amaranth was entranced as her eyes hungrily poured over it. She had never seen anything quite like this before. The decorated writing detailed adventures on the high seas, pirates, and hidden treasure. She could almost taste the salt spray, the _freedom_.

“Rae, can you imagine,” Amaranth breathed. “Sailin’ where you want, without anyone controlling you?” She traced the picture of the ship with her finger, softly humming to herself.

Rae was silent for a long moment. “It’s… a nice thought,” he said quietly. She flopped onto her back with the book clutched to her chest, staring up at the distant stars.

\--

 


	3. The Rat

Time went on. The months stretched into years. She was trained in the art of thievery. She was taught how to speak and sign Thieves’ Cant, how to read graffiti symbols that held hidden meanings that vagrants and criminals could understand. She learned the best ways to create a diversion, how to fight dirty when needed, to pick a wide range of locks.

She pushed herself hard. She wasn’t as strong as her peers. Her sustained weakness from… before, had never fully left her. She compensated in other ways, concentrating on her ability to move swiftly, to hide herself, slipping in and out of places as easily as water. Her skills sharpened and she quickly excelled. The assignments she went on became more dangerous than merely pick-pocketing. Some involved spying on various political people of interest, or infiltrating guarded buildings.  

Then one day, she was told Callen had taken a special interest in her. He was impressed by her stealthiness. How easily she could slip in and out of the shadows. He wanted to train her personally, and it was to be taken as an honor. Amaranth was nervous, but a part of her was flattered that the crime lord had seen something special in her. Rae reacted with more apprehension.

“I don’t like this,” he said nervously, as he watched her strap on her belt and prepare herself for the first lesson with The Rat.

“I can take whatever he can throw at me,” Amaranth told him. “Relax.”

“I know you respect him or whatever, but he’s dangerous.”

“I know that,” she said irritably. “Of course he is, but so is what we do, and so is everything. If I can learn from him, I’ll be able to fight. I could protect myself. I could protect you…” Her voice trailed off. “I don’t want to be weak anymore.”

Rae looked at her for a moment. “You’re not.”

“Well, I can do better,” she snapped, and sheathed her knife.

Rae reached over and grabbed her hand, his voice tense. “Just be careful.”

She exhaled and squeezed back. “Sure.”  

-

The lessons began simply enough. Callen began to train her in the art of swordsmanship, lunging, feinting, attacking. She never once landed a hit against him. He was too fast, too strong, and he didn’t spare her.

The lesson would end with her battered on the ground. She would limp back into the quarters, and Rae would look at her with a concerned grimace, before trying to patch her up as best he could.

She was taught, and she learned quickly. So he pushed her harder.

“Keep moving,” the Rat barked. “Don’t stop moving around your opponent, don’t give them the opportunity to strike!”

Amaranth barely had time to react, bringing her sword up to block his oncoming attack. Before she could get into a defensive stance, she staggered back as he kicked her directly in the stomach. She coughed, clutching her abdomen.With a dexterous move, he cut over her arm, causing her to drop her sword. Then he had her on the ground, the blade to her throat.

“Once again,” Callen ordered. She clutched at her arm as it bled. His steely gray eyes showed no emotion as she struggled to stand up.

“If you expect to survive, you have to ignore the pain,” he said as he deliberately cut his blade into her arm again. “Stand up.” Amaranth felt anger burn in her chest, not at him, but at her own weakness. She gritted her teeth.

“Yes, sir.” She forced herself to her feet, then grabbed her sword and lunged forward. He deftly side-stepped her and knocked her to the ground. She groaned, unable to force herself to stand again.

“If this were a real fight, you’d be dead.”

“I-I’ll do better n-next time, sir,” she ground out. Her entire body was bruised, in pain. Her arm bled from where it was cut.

“I know you will,” Callen said, and he sounded…pleased? “You did very well.” Amaranth looked at him in bewilderment.

“Th…Thank you,” she murmured.

“You have fantastic potential, my dear,” Callen said, looking down at her. His voice took a softer tone, he reached down and Amaranth flinched. But when she looked at him, he was merely offering her a hand up. “I want to see you reach that potential. What you’ve accomplished so far is incredible. I hope that you prove my initial impressions about you correct.”  

Amaranth felt a rush of elation at the small bit of praise. “Y-Yes, sir. I will,” Amaranth stammered. It wasn’t a welcome feeling, and she chided herself. _This isn’t for him. It’s for Rae._

“Good,” he said, smiling at her.

-

As the weeks went by, Amaranth’s skills sharpened, and she continued to accrue injuries. The others would gather around her when she would stumble back to her quarters after training, bombarding her with questions. Nora would snap at all of them to give her space, and Rae would pull her aside and try to treat her wounds. He always wore a tight expression of worry and anger.

And yet, Amaranth couldn’t help but feel a sense of triumph. She had been improving greatly, Callen had told her so. She was becoming stronger, quicker on her feet. And fighting wasn’t the only thing he was teaching her. She was shown various secret tunnels in the city she had never known about, the worth of certain black market magic items, political enemies of the Unseen. It was information that Amaranth was surprised to be receiving, but felt all the more honored he would teach her. And every time he gave her an accolade of some kind, she realized that despite herself, she still wanted his approval.

“Have you killed yet, Nowhere?” Callen asked her one night, twirling his blade lazily in his hand. Her mind flickered to a heist gone bad, the guard closing in on Rae with his sword drawn. On instinct she leapt out of the shadows, stabbing the guard in the back. They ran, and she didn’t know if the guard had died or not.

“Maybe,” she said. “A guard. He was going to hurt Rae. So I hurt him first.”

“Hmm,” Callen studied her for a moment. Amaranth thought she saw a look of disapproval in his eyes. “So you left without finishing the job. You should always go in for a clean kill.” Amaranth wasn’t sure how to respond, so she just nodded.

“Who are you willing to kill for?” he asked her.

“I-I,” she was at a loss for words. “I don’t know.”

“It’s interesting,” Callen said. “You seem to be willing to kill for the other tiefling, Raenon. And yet, your first answer should have been the Unseen.”

Amaranth’s fists clenched and she twitched at the words. “He was in danger,” Amaranth said through gritted teeth. “I did what I had to do to protect him.”

Callen was observing her coolly with those steel gray eyes, and she shuddered as she recalled a similar look when she first met him.

“You’re not understanding me, my dear. Your entire life is devoted to the Unseen. To me. So if I tell you to do something, you do it. If I tell you to kill, you kill. Raenon wasn’t the one who saved you. Remember who you owe your allegiance to.”

A rush of anger coursed through her, the intensity of it unexpected. But she stared at the ground, the sick, angry feeling in her stomach.

“We’re not a _family_ here, Nowhere. That’s naive and wishful thinking on your part. If you think anyone else here is, including Raenon, you’re mistaken. The Unseen is what you’re sworn to. I’m training you to be our hand, to further our cause. Eventually, you’ll have the skills needed to become my assassin. And after that, maybe even step into my role as a successor.You’ll be strong, powerful, just like you wanted. Attachments are an unnecessary distraction from your training.”

It was as though his words had just bludgeoned her, leaving her breathless, stunned. He was preparing her this whole time to be his assassin, someone who would kill on whatever order he gave. He was breaking her down, only to build her into what he wanted, trying to manipulate her against the person she cared about most. She was an idiot not to consider what ulterior motives he had to this training the whole time.

When she finally raised her yellow eyes to look at him, they were fierce and defiant. “No. I don’t want that.”

The Rat arched his eyebrows, surprised at her rebelliousness. “Nowhere, this isn’t up for negotiation or argument. This is something that you should be grateful for. You’re testing my patience, and that is a dangerous game.”

Amaranth glared at him, her fists tightening at her sides. Callen surveyed her for a moment.

“I chose you that day. I could have let you rot in that cage, or let someone buy you for their own evil purposes. I knew I made the right choice when I saw how quickly you were learning, far outlasting your peers. ”

She felt nauseous. “No,” Amaranth said again. “You never asked me what I wanted! I…I just wanted to get stronger, to be able to protect…”

“Did you really think you ever had a choice in the matter,” he asked in an almost an amused tone.  

“That ain’t fair,” she growled.

“Life isn’t fair,” Callen laughed. “Life plays dirty, life chews you up and spits you out for dead. The strongest are the ones that survive.” He smiled cruelly at her. “The truth is, no matter how strong you may get, a part of you will always be that scared tiefling girl in that cage. No prospects, no home, _nothing_.”

Amaranth reacted without thinking. The white anger that had been steadily building within her as he spoke, suddenly released in a moment of blind rage. She swung her blade at him. He brought his own weapon up to counter her, unfazed.

“Without me, you’d be nothing. I made you who you are now.”

Amaranth cried out and swung at him again. He side-stepped her attack, and struck out at her. She hissed in pain as the sword sliced across her arm, unable to maneuver out of the way in time.

“I’m preparing you so you can _survive._ The world isn’t kind. It will rip everything you have away from you. You should know that better than most, Nowhere.”

As Callen raised his sword again, Amaranth ducked the attack, and lunged forward with a snarl. There was a moment of surprise on the crime lord’s face, and then she pressed the blade against his throat. She glared into his gray eyes, and was satisfied to see a hint of nervousness. _Good. Make him scared. Make him feel like you did._ In that instant, she wanted to kill him. The moments stretched on, her blade cutting into his skin.

“You’re going to kill your savior?” he asked incredulously.

Amaranth trembled for a moment, and lowered her sword. It was only then she felt the pain of the slashes on her arm. She wiped the blood and sweat off her face, and glared at him. “Don’t fuck with me.”

It was first time in her training she had succeeded in besting him. At least for a moment. In a split second, Callen had roughly seized her with an iron grip around her arms, and she was slammed to the ground. The impact forced the breath from her lungs. She struggled against him, but then froze in terror when she felt his blade press to her throat.

“Always finish the job,” he hissed in her ear. “Luckily for you, I don’t intend to kill you today. But it seems that I need to think of some more _creative_ ways to ensure your obedience.” The sword was removed from her neck as he stood up, casually brushing the dirt from his clothing. Amaranth remained on the ground, shaking with anger and pain, gritting her teeth against the burning tears that threatened to fall.  

“Go back to your quarters,” he said, wiping her blood off of his blade. “I will decide a suitable punishment for you.”

-

Later, Amaranth winced as Rae gently dabbed at the cuts on her arm.

“Gods,” Rae fumed, taking in her injuries. “What did he do to you, ‘Ranth?”

Amaranth couldn’t respond past the lump in her throat. The tears of frustration that she had been holding back began to overflow. She tried to breathe evenly, but a small sob escaped her. Rae set aside the rag, and carefully took her hands, resting his forehead on hers. “I’m here _, mensi.”_

It was something he used to do when she first arrived, when she woke up from a nightmare. It helped to calm her down now. She angrily wiped the tears with her sleeve, and took a deep breath. Then she explained to Rae what had happened, and what Callen had said to her.

“He was just using me this whole time. I was a fuckin’ idiot not to realize it. He said I shouldn’t be friends with you. Well, fuck that. You’re my friend, Rae. You’re one of the only things that matter in this shitty place.” Amaranth sniffed and glowered at the floor. “I hate him.”

“He’s an asshole,” Rae agreed quietly, continuing to clean her injuries. “But… ‘Ranth, I know how you get when you’re angry, and you gotta be more careful what you say around him.”

“Why should I,” Amaranth scoffed, then yelped in pain as Rae pressed harder on the wound.

“For one, he just beat the shit out of you, and could have killed you. And we don’t know what kind of ‘punishment’, he’s thinking about. Right now, the only reason he’s keeping you around is because you’re useful to him.”

“So I’ll run away and start my own gang,” Amaranth growled, her tail thrashing. “Just because he thinks I owe him for rescuing me. I don’t owe him shit. I’m getting good enough to-”

“Quiet!” Rae said sharply, glancing nervously over his shoulder. “He could do worse to you, Amaranth. Please be careful.”

“I don’t care. I want more than this. I want to be free, Rae. Don’t you ever want that?”

Rae didn’t answer. He wrapped a bandage around a particularly nasty cut. There was a bone-deep exhaustion to his features.

“It is what it is.”

“No it ain’t, Rae,” Amaranth said fiercely. “You don’t gotta keep lettin’ them walk all over you!”  

Rae didn’t look at her. “I learned a long time ago to accept it. I do what they tell me to.”

Amaranth felt her stomach churn at his words. “Rae…”

“I was nearly dead when they found me on the streets. I can’t survive without him.”

“Bullshit. I ain’t gonna be under his thumb for the rest of my life, catering to his every whim. And neither will you.”

Rae actually cracked a smile at that. “I wish I had the confidence you have, ‘Ranth. I’m just not that brave.” He finished bandaging her arm.

“And that’s also bullshit.”

Rae looked at her for a long moment. “You know, I don’t think the name Nowhere suits you.”

Amaranth was taken aback. It was an unspoken rule to not question a tiefling’s chosen Virtue name.

“What the fuck, Rae? Where do you get off saying that?”

Rae just smiled at her. “You’re Fury.”

Amaranth rolled her eyes. “And you’re Wiseass.”

\--

Amaranth had braced herself for the physical pain that might be inflicted on her. But it was worse than she could have imagined. It wasn’t her who ended up being hurt.

She woke up in time to see Rae being dragged outside by The Rat’s henchmen. She immediately tried to dash towards him, but was caught from behind by Nora.

“Don’t do anything stupid,” she pleaded, but Amaranth’s attention was focused elsewhere.

“What the fuck do you think you’re fuckin’ doing _?_ !” she nearly shrieked, struggling against Nora. Rae had time to give her a look that clearly mirrored Nora’s sentiment of _don’t do anything stupid_ , before he was roughly shoved forward. The other young Unseen members had also woken up from the commotion, standing off to the side and murmuring to each other. Then the talking ceased, and the small crowd that had gathered parted for Callen as he walked over. He stood next to Amaranth and looked briefly at her, his face completely unreadable.

Then he nodded to the henchmen, who read off some infraction that Rae had committed that Amaranth _knew_ wasn’t true. _They’re lying they’re fucking LYING.._ . There was a sickening _thud,_ as Rae was struck across the back, and he collapsed to the ground.

“Stop it!” Amaranth shouted. “He didn’t fuckin’ do anything! I’m the one…”

“This is your fault, Nowhere. If you had listened to me, this wouldn’t have happened,” The Rat spoke in her ear, his hand lightly came to rest on her shoulder. “Now, just do as I say, and no more harm will come to him.”

Amaranth flinched as Rae cried out in pain. Callen was making this a show, a spectacle. He wanted to teach her to never disobey him again. Nora still clutched her arm, but her head was turned away from what was happening. The choice made Amaranth’s stomach churn, but it was a hopeless situation. He was threatening Rae. The person who she thought of as family. She wouldn’t put it past the bastard to do worse if she didn’t listen. This could have been avoided. _He’s right. This is my fault._ Her body slumped in defeat.

“Okay,” she said. “Just don’t hurt him.”

“Good. Thank you for being so agreeable, Nowhere.” His fingers tightened painfully on her shoulder. Her skin crawled.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 'mensi and 'bruna' are the Infernal words for sister and brother, also used as a friendly term of familiarity and endearment between tieflings.


	4. Into the Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for abuse and violence in this chapter, some horrible implications of being sold into slavery, and a brief graphic description of eye trauma towards the end. Callen was a monster before, but he becomes downright horrific in this chapter.

It was after that night that Amaranth started to plan their escape. Her lessons continued with Callen. The punishments against Rae also continued. They were harsh, much harsher than what was warranted for the minor infractions they used as an excuse to discipline him. Amaranth knew the reason was to keep her in line, to make sure she continued to be obedient. And it was working, because she was terrified to consider what would happen to Rae if she disobeyed orders.

Callen’s behavior towards her before was strict and cold. But it became something worse; malicious and possessive. He told her that she should consider herself _lucky_ he wasn’t using other methods to control her. There was magic that could alter her mind, make her do things against her will. The very concept filled her with a visceral horror. He would gloat about how he didn’t even have to do much to keep her under his control. He was right. If she became defiant, all he had to do was threaten Rae. If she would resist further, he would make her watch as Rae was beaten, and she would quickly break, agreeing to do whatever Callen ordered.

When he deemed Amaranth was finished with her ‘lesson’, he would finally release her to go back to her quarters. She and Rae would curl up together, holding each other through the aftermath of their harrowing ordeal. Through her tears, she would apologize to him, over and over. Even beaten and in pain, Rae would hush her, tell her that it wasn’t her fault.

But she knew they didn’t have much time. Callen would soon separate them permanently, and then she would be in servitude to the crime lord for the rest of her life. He would threaten to kill Rae, in order to force her to kill others. They would both be powerless to do anything.   

Amaranth began to whisper her plan of escape to Rae. It wasn’t easy to persuade him to leave with her at first. Rae seemed to have lost any hope of getting out of their situation. There was an air of exhausted acceptance of what might happen to him. It was how he survived as part of the Unseen. He didn’t fight, he did as he was told.

Amaranth wouldn’t leave without him. Finally, he agreed. He would go, not for his own sake, but for hers. So they met in secret, taking brief moments to discuss their plan. The only other person who knew was Nora. She kept watch for them, giving warning if they were at risk of being overheard. Amaranth attempted numerous times to convince Nora to leave with them. No amount of pleading would sway her. Each time she would refuse. There was a different sort of defeat to her. She was comfortable in her life with the Unseen. She had her place, it was familiar, and the prospect of going anywhere else was terrifying. She wanted to stay.

Amaranth knew an escape attempt would be dangerous. The most dangerous thing they’ve ever done. The crime lord had other eyes and ears across the city after all. If they were caught it was most likely a death sentence. But staying could result in the same outcome, especially for Rae. And Amaranth would rather risk death than spend her life in captivity.

She didn’t know exactly where they would go, but only to push South towards the coastline, and make their way from there. They just had to get away. As far as they could. As fast as they were able, so no one could catch them.

The night they fled, they only had their squalor provisions, and weapons. They were in the belly of the sewers, close enough to the headquarters not to arouse suspicion, but far enough to flee once they were ready. Amaranth knew about the secret tunnels that Callen had told her about, ones that provided quicker routes that would keep them hidden, until they reached the Southern gate. Using the sewers out of the city would be too dangerous, as Unseen patrolled those exits regularly. They would have to climb the border wall.  

The first thing they had to do was remove their tattoos. Even if they escaped, the Unseen could still locate them, track them. The method they used for removal wasn’t clean or quick. It required a heated blade, and burning skin.

Amaranth went first, after a few swigs of stiff whisky. It was excruciating. She could barely stop herself from screaming as she bit down in agony on a rolled up cloth. Nora held her down as Rae removed the offending marking as quickly as he could. Then there was a splash of something on the burn. The agonizing pain on her shoulder and neck immediately decreased its intensity, and she lay on the ground, gasping in relief. Rae had poured a healing potion on her, one they had stolen from the Unseen’s reserve. The pain wasn’t totally gone, but it had dulled enough to allow her to push through what she had to do next.

The process was repeated for Rae. Amaranth concentrated on the task, trying to not to let her hand shake, or to throw up as a sizzling noise filled the air, accompanied by the smell of burning flesh and Rae’s pained whimpers. Finally, the grisly task was completed, and the relief she felt as she dumped the healing potion over her friend was palpable. The three of them sat there for a moment, catching their respective breaths. But they couldn’t spend time recovering for long.

“We have to go _now_ ,” Rae said tensely, scanning the shadows. “I don’t know how much longer we have before someone catches on we’ve been gone.”

Amaranth nodded, throwing her small satchel over her shoulder. Time was of the essence. Before leaving, she turned to face Nora, tears in her eyes. It was time to say goodbye.

Rae and Nora shared a hug. “Take care of yourself. Thank you for everything,” he whispered. Nora nodded, her eyes glistening. “You two take care of each other.”

Amaranth pulled her into a fierce embrace, not caring if the burn was still raw. The dwarven girl returned the hug, just as passionately.

“You can still come with us,” Amaranth whispered. “Please.”

Nora just shook her head and smiled sadly. “I told you. It would be too risky.”

“We can figure out a way,” Amaranth choked out, her face buried in Nora’s thick chestnut hair. Nora stepped back and took Amaranth’s face between her hands, looking at her with tears in her dark eyes. “This is my home. This is all I know.”

Amaranth nodded, a lump in her throat. Nora leaned forward, and they both shared a final kiss. Finally, Nora pulled away. She took a few steps back, and gazed at both of them for a moment. There was no time for a long farewells.  

“Goodbye,” she whispered. Then she turned and ran, disappearing deeper into the tunnel. Amaranth and Rae watched her in doleful silence, until their friend had vanished back into the sewers.

“You okay?” Rae asked quietly, placing a comforting arm around Amaranth. She quickly wiped her eyes. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

So they fled, through the sewers, into the evening twilight of the Downtown District. They ducked between alleys, climbed over buildings, hid under carts. They used the shadows to their advantage, and moved as quickly and silently as possible. After what seemed like hours, they reached the city limits of Vanthil. And beyond it was the road leading South, towards the coast. The last step was to escape over the gate without any guards noticing, and then they would be free from the confining boundaries of the city.

Amaranth was practically shaking with excitement. _They had almost made it, they were so close!_ Rae went first, as Amaranth kept watch. Using footholds in the stone and a small grappling hook, he climbed up the structure. Finally, he made it to the top. He gave her a hand signal to indicate the coast was clear, and then slipped safely over the other side of the wall and into the shadows. He had made it. Amaranth quickly scanned for danger, before following.

“Leaving so soon? There’s still much left to teach you,” said a deep familiar voice from behind her. Amaranth whirled around, drawing her sword, her heart pounding in fright.

The Rat was partially obscured in the darkness of an alleyway, and he stepped forward smiling cordially at her. She took a step back. _How long has he been following us?_

“Stay the fuck away from me,” she spat at him, trying not to show her fear.

“Come now, my dear,” he said, drawing his own blade. “You didn’t think you’d get away from me that easily, did you?”

“Fuck you,” she snarled. She had been so close, _so close_. But Rae had made it out. That was what mattered.

“How’d you find me?”

Callen just laughed. “Not much slips my notice. I know you and Raenon are foolish enough to try and escape. Although he left the city limits, he’s an easy target. I still have people who can track him. Even without our… usual means. ” His gray eyes lingered on the red festered skin near her neck that wasn’t covered by the cloak. Amaranth narrowed her eyes. So he knew about Rae. He hadn’t mentioned Nora, and she hoped it meant her friend hadn’t been found out.

“But I must say, putting yourself through such pain, even if it’s all for nothing, is at the very least, admirable. You’ve always had an impressive ability to endure pain.”

“I don’t need your compliments,” she snapped. She held her sword at the ready, waiting. “Just tell me what you want, instead of fuckin’ around.”

“You are not in the position to be making demands of me. I’m giving you one last chance. You’ve always wanted to be strong, to be powerful. I’m giving you an opportunity to be that.”

“At the price of my freedom,” Amaranth said. “So I can be your little puppet.”

His formal demeanour dropped. “I _saved_ you, you thankless bitch,” he growled. “You owe me your _life_.”  

“You didn’t _save_ me,” Amaranth yelled. “You _bought_ me as fuckin’ property! You’re a motherfuckin’ shit stain, the same as the fuckers who kept me in that cage! I ain’t yours, and I don’t owe you _shit_.”

In one swift movement he lunged at her with his sword. His blade nicked her skin as she deftly spun out of his range. She struck out at him and he parried the attack. She went in for another strike, but suddenly he wasn’t there. It was as though he had completely vanished. Amaranth froze, looking around wildly.

Then she was knocked from her feet, slamming onto her back. Her sword and dagger flew from her hands and clattered out of grabbing range. She tried to roll to the side but the edge of his blade was poised over her chest. “Not so fast,” he chuckled. “You’re not going anywhere.” She was prone on her back, staring up in fear as he loomed over her, her heart pounding underneath the cold steel.

“It’s really too bad,” he said, a grin stretching over his gaunt face. “All that training going to waste. The time and money I invested in you. You could have been the most powerful person in Vanthil. But now, you’re _nothing_. Just a weak little thing who can’t save herself.”

His eyes raked over her, and his blade began to languidly slice through the fabric of her shirt and across her skin. “Such a waste,” he murmured, in an almost regretful tone. “But you’ve become more trouble than it’s worth.” Amaranth cringed, waiting for the sword to plunge into her chest. But instead, the blade lingered. It pressed into her chin, forcing her to tilt her head upwards. She shuddered, feeling him continue to examine her dispassionately, like she was a piece of merchandise. A possession.

“Killing you would be quite easy. But luckily for you, there is still some usefulness you can provide me. Proprietors would pay handsomely for someone like you.”

Amaranth wanted to scream, to fight, but her body was disconnected from what she wanted it to do. She could only shake in fear as Callen leered down at her, his sword pressed into her skin. _Weak_ , someone hissed at her. It took her a moment to realize it was her own thoughts, and not Callen. _Weak, weak, weak. He has you. You can’t fight him._

“It would require breaking you down to make sure you don’t pull a little stunt like this again. Buyers prefer their slaves to be more… docile. Manageable.”

She couldn’t move. Even if she could, she was pinned to the ground in terror by his gaze.

“You’re coming back with me. I have plans for you, my dear.”

He was going to drag her back down into the darkness.

“Stand up,” he ordered. Her body automatically obeyed, as though he were yanking on the strings of a puppet. Her mind raced, she quickly glanced to where her weapons lay. He sheathed his sword, and pulled a length of rope that had been hidden under his cloak.

 _No._ She would rather die. If he tried to so much as touch her, she would fight, and she would die.

“Turn around.”

 _“N-No,_ ” she growled. It seemed to take all her willpower to force out the words from her throat.  

Callen seized her, trying to drag her backwards. The fear that had kept her frozen in place, shattered. Amaranth thrashed like a wild animal, kicking and struggling as he attempted to subdue her.

She managed to free an arm, and with all of her strength, jammed her finger directly into one of his eyes. Her sharp claw gouged into the soft tissue, and he let out an agonized scream, blood oozing down his face. He let go long enough for her to squirm away, as she made an attempt to dash towards her weapons on the ground. Her bid at escape was abruptly squandered when she was wrestled back from behind, his arms tightly restraining her.

“You fucking little shit,” he hissed, next to her ear. “You’ll pay for that.”

With a feral snarl, she bit down on his hand, her fangs sinking into his flesh. The hand released, as he cursed in pain. She desperately tried to pull free to reach her weapons again, but was yanked towards him. His other hand was wrapped around her wrist with an iron unrelenting grip. In a violent swift motion, she was backhanded across the face, and her vision went black with pain.

Disoriented, she tried to strain away, but he had her. Her arms were pulled brutally behind her back, and she winced as she felt the rope lash around her wrists. She struggled furiously as the bindings dug painfully tight into her skin.

“There we go,” he muttered, breathing heavily as he finished securing the rope. “I was going to say you should consider yourself lucky I didn’t kill you. But now, when I’m through with you, you’ll wish that I did.”  

He spun her around and grabbed her chin, forcing her to look straight into his gray eyes. Amaranth defiantly glared back at him. One of his eyes was a mess of blood, nearly swollen shut, and Amaranth felt grim satisfaction at her handiwork. His expression was twisted into a vicious grin. He looked truly monstrous.

“The more you fight, the more you’ll regret it later,” he threatened. Amaranth spat directly in his face. He struck her again, hard enough to make her ears ring.

“That annoying disobedient attitude will be crushed out of you soon,” he smiled cruelly down at her. “Now stop struggling. We can do this the easy way, or the hard-”  

Callen’s eyes suddenly went wide in shock. The hands that had been gripping her released their hold, and Amaranth lost her balance and fell to the ground. He staggered with a grunt of pain, looking in disbelief over his shoulder.

Rae stood behind him, an expression of absolute icy rage on his face. His dagger was embedded deep in Callen’s back. Rae struck again, driving his dagger into the crime lord’s ribcage. Callen collapsed to the ground, next to Amaranth. She scrambled backwards from him, hands still bound behind her. Adrenaline coursed through her body as Rae knelt next to her, and she involuntarily flinched.

“It’s okay,” Rae said softly. “Hold still. I’ll get you out of these.”

Amaranth sniffed, and nodded as he quickly got to work.

“We don’t have much time. The guards saw me when I came back over.”  

His face was covered in sweat and small cuts, and he was also out of breath. He must have scaled the entire wall again when he realized something was wrong, and this time he was seen. He risked his own freedom for her. Amaranth blinked back tears as Rae used his knife to cut off her bindings from her bruised wrists. As soon as she was free, she frantically grabbed her weapons from where they lay on the ground.

“Come on,” Rae said, helping her up. She paused for a moment, knuckles white as she clutched the hilt of her sword. A trail of blood was smeared across the ground where The Rat had dragged himself and slumped against the wall in the shadow of a building, his own sword in his hand. He was grinning at her. Blood trickled from his mouth. He was weak. She could kill him. She _wanted_ to kill him.

There was shouting in the distance, footfalls. Rae was at the wall, looking at her, hand extended. “ _Mensi_ , hurry. The guards are coming.”

She sheathed her sword, and turned to go. The Rat coughed, and laughed weakly at her from where he lay on the ground, bleeding from his wounds. “You may run, but you will always belong to me.”

She looked at him in hatred. “I never belonged to you, and I never will to anyone.”

And she fled into the night, still feeling his steel gray eyes on her back.

-

 


	5. Sea and Sky

Amaranth and Rae journeyed South, towards the Elraus Coast. They slept under the open night sky on the side of the road, making sure to be out of sight from other travelers. They would lay on their backs, picking out stars they recognized from when they were hidden on rooftops in the cover of night. There were no confining walls, no fear of punishment and beatings, no one controlling them. It was only them, journeying together on the long road before them.

Every few miles they would come across small villages and towns. They had scrounged together a small amount of stolen gold, enough to buy whatever rations and essentials were needed to survive on the road. The first night they spent in a room at a tavern and off of the cold ground was a luxury (Amaranth flopped onto her bed, bouncing on it a couple of times). The food they bought was hot and delicious. They splurged on cakes and desserts, which they had only on very rare instances in Vanthil when Amaranth would steal pastries for them.  

Two vagrant tieflings traveling together attracted suspicious looks from people in many of the towns they stayed in. Some people would be more overtly aggressive towards them, and they knew it wouldn’t be safe to spend the night there. Symbols etched into walls and trees in Thieves’ Cant helped lead them to places that were accommodating to people like them.  

Their days on the road were still spent scrambling to survive, looking over their shoulders for any shadow out of place. They kept their ears to the ground, listening to see if anyone was searching for two wayward tieflings. Amaranth would sometimes wake in a cold sweat from nightmares of a grinning gaunt face.

There was one time where they were almost caught. They had traveled many arduous days away from Vanthil, and arrived at a small town hoping to find an inn, exhausted from a long day of walking. It was then Rae spotted two people trailing them, both in dark cloaks. Amaranth and Rae picked up speed, hoping to lose them, but it seemed like the cloaked figures would keep pace no matter where they went.  

“It’s Unseen, it has to be,” Amaranth whispered.

“Shit,” Rae said. “How’d they find us all the way out here?”

“I know The Rat has informants spread outside of Vanthil for intel and smuggling, so word got out about us somehow…” She felt a knot in her stomach. “It probably means _he’s_ still alive.”

They turned a corner, and found themselves at a dead end alleyway. _Fuck_ , Amaranth thought, trying to assess the quickest method of escape, but it was too late. The figures stood behind them, blocking their way with their daggers drawn. She saw a glint of silver on their cloaks of the familiar insignia. Amaranth made a split second choice. In a swift motion she chucked her dagger at the figure to her left. It struck in the neck, causing them to stagger back with a horrible gurgling noise. The other Unseen member darted forward, towards Rae. He was able to strike out with his dagger, piercing into the assailant’s torso, but couldn’t dodge out of the way of the attack. The knife raked across Rae’s shoulder, and he fell to the ground with a shout of pain.

Anger pounded like a heartbeat through Amaranth. She launched herself full force into an onslaught, stabbing and slashing, as she dodged and parried the incoming attacks. She didn’t notice the injuries she sustained until her opponent lay dead at her feet. She panted for a moment, and heard running footfalls behind her. The other Unseen member was still alive. A knife skimmed over her side as she twisted around in rage.

“ _Leave us the fuck alone,_ ” she growled. A sudden flame flickered from her hand and up her sword. She saw a shocked expression lit by the burst of fire, and used it to her advantage to land a final blow into the chest.

Both Unseen members were slain. She blinked, swaying in place for a moment. She staggered over to Rae, and pulled him up. He seemed dazed, clutching his arm, but otherwise not severely injured. She retrieved her dagger, shakily wiping off the blood.

_Always finish the job._

Amaranth and Rae fled the town, before anyone could connect them to what happened. She knew once news spread, it would make its way back to the The Rat, and he would understand her message. _Don’t fuck with me._

They weren’t followed again after that.

_-_

They continued towards the coast, towards the sea, that was all they knew, leaving the remnants of their old lives behind. There would always be dangers, but despite those, there was now elation. Even as they still lived off the streets, stealing and surviving however they could, what they stole was for them alone, not to give to anyone else. They weren’t branded with a mark that tracked their every move. They were beholden to no one but themselves.

The closer they pushed towards the coast, the air felt different, even smelled different. Then one day, after weeks of traveling, they arrived. The expanse of the Elraus Sea stretched before them. It was the picture she had seen in the book come to life, but it was a living and breathing entity, not a static image on parchment. They stood, mouths agape at the sight. Then Amaranth let out a whoop and ran to shoreline. The salt wind whipped through her hair, and she twirled around, laughing and breathing in deeply. Rae came up behind her, staring out to the horizon.

“We made it. I can’t believe it. We made it here. Alive.”

“’Course we did!” Amaranth flicked some water at him with her tail, as the tide tugged around their ankles.

Rae pulled her into a side-long hug, still staring awe-struck at the ocean, the sea and sky reflected in his blue eyes. “Thank you, _mensi,_ ” he said sincerely.

“Hm? For what?”

“Without you, I never would have made it out. I wouldn’t have even tried.”

Amaranth didn’t know what to say to that, so she just leaned on him, her tail curling around him in a hug.

“...So what happens now?”

-

Aeston was a small fishing town, most of their commerce deriving from maritime trade with larger neighboring cities along the coast. Fishing vessels and merchant ships would regularly dock, transporting cargo on and off the ship. Amaranth and Rae found themselves taking petty jobs around town for coin. It was the first honest work Amaranth had done in her life. They scraped by enough to pay to sleep in the basement of a local pub called the Dragon Turtle Tavern. She spent evenings there, listening to the old sailors gossip and talk. She heard tales spun of adventures on the seas, pirate treasures and strange monsters. The sailors didn’t treat her with more or less suspicion than anyone else in the tavern. She came back regularly, listening to their stories, drinking and playing cards with them.

One night, Amaranth was dealing out a hand of cards to a regular at the pub she knew as Josie. She was a strong, weathered looking woman, with deep wrinkles in her freckled skin, and white hair. She could drink a pint of ale in one swing, and told the story of how she once took out an entire bar in a fight. She may have been bluffing but no one wanted to challenge her on it. (Amaranth was a bit starstruck by her).  

“A lot of the sailors don’t seem to care about me and Rae bein’ here,” Amaranth commented.

“Eh? Why the hell would we care?” Josie said, not looking up from her cards.

“Other towns we’ve been to seemed to be more suspicious of us bein’ tieflings and all.”

Josie took long gulp of ale, and wiped her mouth on her sleeve. “When you travel across the world, you see some shit. How someone looks like is the least of yer concerns. People are too complicated for that. Hell, monsters too. I’ve met some fine trolls n’ shit. ” Josie shrugged, shuffling her cards. “People can look different dependin’ on the day. I changed my own name and how I look, and I don’t even got magic. So it’s always been stupid to me to make those kinda judgments. What counts is that ya got my back in a tough pinch.”

Amaranth was quiet for a moment, mulling over the words. “You ain’t worried about where people come from? Who they are?”

“‘Course I care who people _are_. People are the choices that they make, whether good or shitty. Nobody should control that but you. And where you come from? Pheh. We all got our pasts.” Josie looked pointedly at the ugly burn mark that scarred Amaranth’s neck and shoulder. Amaranth self-consciously shifted the collar of her shirt up, face slightly warm in embarrassment.

“It’s nothin’ to be ashamed of, lass,” Josie said in an uncharacteristically quiet voice. “Scars show you survived.”

Amaranth blinked at her. Josie pulled up a sleeve to show an old bite wound.

“I got this one wrestlin’ an owlbear.” Josie winked. Amaranth smiled a little, then her smile faded and she stared at the table. Josie sighed and placed the cards down.

“Listen. I don’t know where ya come from, and frankly I don’t care. But what I can tell from you is that you’re a tough-as-nails lass. Don’t let anyone give you shit. Unless you want them to. Sometimes it’s fun if someone gives you shit because then you can beat that shit straight back at ‘em.”

Now Amaranth laughed. “I’m pretty good at that.”

“Hey,” Josie grinned. “You’d make a good sailor.”

-

Amaranth began to talk more about the sea to Rae, feeling the longing of freedom well up in her again. She was restless, she wanted to move, she dreamed of sailing the Hyarmenya Ocean and beyond.

“Okay,” Rae said one day.

“Okay, what?”  

“Okay, let’s do it. We can get a job on one of the ships. Gotta start somewhere.” Amaranth tackled him in a giant hug.

A few days after that, they were hired as crew of a trading vessel. When she first went aboard and planted her feet on deck, it felt natural. She watched as Aeston got smaller and smaller, as the ship set sail. It was one of the only towns she had been where she felt truly at ease, and would look back on it with fondness.  

In the following months, she learned how to bend and hitch rigging, lash sails, hoist anchor, among many other tasks aboard the ship. It caused her fingers to to blister over and bleed and blister again, and she loved it. She learned to keep up drinking with the rough and tumble sailors on board, and was able to paint her language even more colorful than it was before thanks to them. She learned sea shanties that the sailors sung together as they worked, or when they rested in their downtime. There were many songs, some about love and lost love, hardships of the sailing life, and some that would make any landlubber blush. But the ones she enjoyed most were about the freedom of the open sea.

Some of her favorite moments were when she was assigned as look-out in the crow’s nest. This happened to her more often than not because of her ability to see in darkness. Countless stars would appear in the endless expanse of night sky, and she picked out constellations, growing familiar with their placement over time.

She waited for the moment at dawn, where she could see the sun appear just above the horizon and low lying mist enveloped the ship. The sailors had a term for this, she later learned, called _day-blink_.

The sea and the sky were open and vast, and there were no walls.

And yet, despite the thrill this new life gave, a part of her still felt restless. The ship was pledged to the government it served, and she wanted nothing to do with allegiance to any principality. There was a hierarchy, and what she saw of those in higher positions reminded her of the wealthy elite she would steal from back in Vanthil.

She saw this one day when a man boarded the ship, his clothing indicating a high place of power of some kind. The captain greeted him cordially, and the crew stood at attention as he went by. Amaranth watched him with a frown, her tail twitching in irritation. There was something about his demeanour she didn’t like. He reminded her of the nobles that would treat her and the other urchins lower than dirt.

“Who’s he?” Amaranth muttered to a crewmember beside her.

“Probably from the government, makin’ sure everything is up to speed. No funny business. Lass, you better stand up straight and show some respect if ya know what’s good for ya.”

“For what?”

“These people love dishin’ out pain for insubordination. Five to ten lashings for disrespecting a government official, dependin’ on much of a bastard they are.”

“That’s such bullshit!”

“Luckily, they don’t wanna get their hands dirty with it, so the captain can just pretend to agree to it until they leave. But sometimes they like to stick around and watch. Remember, we’re still workin’ for him and people like him _,_ and they don’t view us as much at all. He’s got the final say in where we go.”

Over their travels, Amaranth had overheard from sailors how strict some of the rules were with certain employers, and how some local corrupt governments, or even affluent individuals could simply pull crew from a ship and put them to work elsewhere for their own means, often with meager pay and not even informing families of what had happened to them. Any protest could result in harsh punishment or jail time. The idea that she or Rae could be separated because of that made her blood boil.

-

One morning, as Amaranth sat in the crow’s nest, Rae climbed in to join her.

“You’re not satisfied here, _mensi_ , I can tell,” he commented.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever be satisfied,” she laughed. “But you’re right, _bruna_ . I don’t like that this ship follows the the law of the land. And the way some of the sailors get treated, havin’ to serve whoever or get punished if they don’t. Reminds me of… _him_.” Her face went dark for a moment. Rae placed a hand on her back. “And the ship’s owned by those rich assholes that have it in for people like us. Like the ones we used to steal from. Kind of miss it.”

Rae looked side-long at her, his blue eyes sparkling. “What are you thinking?”

“Once we learn enough, we find a ship of our own, and… take it for our own purposes. Maybe for some, uh, light larceny.”

“So you mean….pirating,” Rae clarified.

“The world stole from us, Rae. I don’t see why we can’t steal back from it.”  

\--

 


	6. The Blinking Star

In the following months they put their plan into action. They garnered curiosity, speaking Thieves’ Cant to gauge the interest of any of the more criminally inclined sailors they knew. When on land, they asked for the roughest known tavern in town and marked a thief symbol indicating illegal work. They even caught the attention of well experienced sailors, ones who had been recruited by royals.

By the end, they had found nine others who were willing to brave a life of great risk that offered freedom. The final assembled crew was a mix of backgrounds, ancestries and genders. What mattered was that they understood what the ship stood for, and harbored the same passion that Amaranth felt. Many of them came from pasts that were similar to hers, the world beating them down, using them, taking and taking, and they had enough.

Before they even set sail, they first had to establish a council and appoint positions. There was no point to her endeavour if none of the crew had a choice in the matter. When it came time to nominate a captain, the crew all turned to her. Amaranth was flabbergasted.

“Me? I haven’t had half as much experience sailin’ as most of you!” She looked around at everyone in confusion. Rae was smirking a little. “Magog, you’ve been at sea for most of your life, you’d be a way better candidate than me!”

Magog, a large and gentle orc with weatherworn skin and a patch over a blinded eye, smiled at her. “That may be true, lass. But you’re the one who brought us all together. That’s no easy task, and something that I respect greatly. You have the passion, determination and courage to keep us goin’. We can see how brightly it burns in you.”

“Plus, you’re not gonna be doin’ this alone,” piped a gnome named Moat, who was appointed as one of the gunners. “That’s what a crew is for.”

There were murmurs of agreement from the rest of the crew. Amaranth glanced at Rae, who shrugged.

“It’s your call, Captain.” He laughed as she elbowed him in the side. Amaranth blinked back some moisture in her eyes, and then straightened up, looking at the assembled motley crew before her. “I’ll do my best to bring this ship to where she needs to be. I won’t let you down.”

“How should we refer to you, Captain?” Magog asked. Amaranth thought for a moment. Pirate captains would sometimes choose a name that sounded fearsome, intimidating. That wasn’t as important to her as a name that encapsulated who she was, what she stood for as the ship’s captain. She glanced at Rae.

“Fury,” she answered.

So the following night they implemented their scheme to commandeer an empty ship, docked in a port at Umedash. It was during a local festival, where sailors mingled with with townsfolk for evening festivities, many leaving their posts (whether permission was given or not), for some sorely needed shore leave. The plan went off without a hitch, with no one aboard the ship to sound a warning. The lights and revelry from the festival were distraction enough, and anyone who ventured close to the docks seemed to be inebriated. The closest they came to someone catching them was a drunken party-goer staggering near the boat, raising his drink and slurring, “Happy Sail Day, ‘m good mates”, before passing out.

The crew bustled around the ship, each person going to their assigned station. Rae stood next to her at the helm, arms clasped behind his back. He was silent, but he had that twinkle of humor in his blue eyes that Amaranth recognized. As though he were saying, _I can’t believe we pulled this one off_. Amaranth could believe it.

As she called to set sail and lay forward, the fire within her roared with joy.

-

Over the next few days, Amaranth conferred with the rest of the crew to create their own pirate code. Amaranth had never been one for rules, but at Rae and Magog’s suggestion, they laid out guidelines that would help ship run smoothly. The code was a bit more unorthodox than what would be expected of a pirate ship. However, as far as pirates went, they were more unorthodox than most. She read off to the crew the articles of agreement, which first covered various jobs aboard the ship. Then she moved on to distribution of wealth and plundering other vessels.

“We’re pirates. We steal. We’re criminals. But even we have standards,” Amaranth said. “When we loot a ship, the only prizes you take are riches and cargo. You don’t take people as a prize, we ain’t slavers and they ain’t property. If I find that any of you has done this, they’ll be punished to how the crew sees fit. They can marooned, and maybe executed dependin’ on the severity of what was done. This is one rule I don’t fuck around with. Ships who do this, pirate or otherwise, are the opposite of the freedom we stand for.”

Her crew nodded back to her in agreement, with a few giving a passionate, “Aye, Cap’n!” and someone saying, “Those lot give our trade a bad name! Well, worse than it already has. Umberlee drag em’ to the bottom of the sea is what I say.” Which was followed by another chorus of hearty agreements. Amaranth waited for them to quiet down before she continued.  

“As for the spoils, they’ll be split evenly. ‘Course, this includes everyone’s fair share of liquor. The quartermaster, Rae, will be in charge of distributin’. If there’s any dispute going on, go talk to him. He’s good at settlin’ disputes. If I fall, he’s the second in command. He’ll take my place as captain.”

Later that night, Amaranth and Rae stood together looking out over the bow of the ship. Amaranth had pulled out her spyglass and was scanning the horizon. The sails gently flapped in the cool night breeze. The tieflings had been discussing their first plan of action, where they wanted to go and what they wanted to do. It felt like their possibilities were nearly limitless. Amaranth was talking excitedly, and she only noticed Rae’s troubled expression after a few minutes.

“What’s wrong, _bruna_?”

“Do you expect to die?” Rae asked her.

“Well. I… I don’t really know. What we’re doing is dangerous. Very dangerous. But everything in life is. And I’d rather have my freedom than… being forced to do something I don’t want.

Rae nodded. “I think the crew feels the same way. We didn’t decide to do this because it’s safe. All of us know the risks involved in something like this. But I think the freedom outweighs the risk. We have to believe that to some degree. And make peace with what could happen because of that belief.”

Amaranth was silent for a minute. She looked at the stars reflected in the ocean, small points of brightness sparkling on the water.

“I don’t plan to live if all else fails. I’ll go down with the ship. With you.”

“You’ll fight, and you’ll live.”

“I won’t be able to. I ain’t strong on my own.”

“’Ranth…” he sighed. His eyes held a familiar sadness to them. When she would wake up from a nightmare. When he would bandage a wound from when her anger got the better of her and she would do something reckless. Sometimes against someone else. Sometimes against herself. “You’re stronger than you think you are.”

Amaranth stared at the ocean below. It was peaceful, beautiful.

“Right now is what we have,” Amaranth said. “I can’t change what happened to me. I don’t know what’s coming. I just want to be here, with you, right now. And for right now, it’s enough.”

Rae pulled her into an embrace, his tail wrapping comfortingly around her. She hugged him back, holding onto him tight. They stayed like that for a long time.

-

The ship was a schooner, she was small but fast and agile, moving through water with ease and the grace of a cat. Amaranth named the ship the _Blinking Star._ The name encompassed how they would operate, quick and silent in the dead of night. Using the cover of darkness, they would navigate by the position of celestial bodies to find the ship’s bearing.

Rae designed the colors of the ship. A large ornate sun, circled around a star, which stood for the directions of a compass. It symbolized freedom, being able to navigate wherever the stars led them. It was a beautiful design, but Amaranth pointed out that if it were on a flag, it wouldn’t really gain notoriety or intimidate other ships if they saw it. Rae sighed and begrudgingly added a skull and cross bones in the middle.

The crew of the _Blinking Star_ quickly fell into their respective roles, each person a vital part of maintaining its operation.

Magog spent his life as a learned sailing master, and his knowledge of piloting a vessel and navigation were invaluable. His quiet human protege, Euna, worked as his mate, intensely focused on any task given to her.

Rush was the ship’s carpenter and bosun and made sure it stayed afloat by mending any damage sustained, filling holes or repairing rigging. He was a surly dwarf, but would work through any type of weather or disaster to make sure his task was completed to his satisfaction.

Ward was a large muscled human, who worked as the ship’s cook and striker, always making sure the whole crew had enough to eat by fishing and hunting for food. They were confidant in their cooking skills, often comparing it to fine cuisine, although their dishes were nothing more than an amalgam of food dumped into a stew (it was however, very filling and nutritious).

Aletha, Groor , Jastra and Moat (a human, halfling, half-elf and gnome, respectively), were general hands on deck, and could jump on whatever task needed of them. Their real expertise was operating the canons as gunners. The four of them could aim, fire, reset, swab and load a canon nearly seamlessly. One shot was all they needed on another ship to temporarily disable it for a getaway. They used to work together as a performing troupe, and now would entertain the rest of the crew with songs, or impromptu humorous skits highlighting the ship’s escapades.

Ghilanna was the ship’s surgeon and doctor. She was a stoic elf, tending to the wounds of the crew with the knowledge she had from her years as a cleric. She often invoked the name of Típin Saselas, the elven deity of the of the sea. Her minor healing magic saved lives aboard the vessel on more than one occasion.

The _Blinking Star_ would raid merchant and trading vessels across the Elraus Sea. Each raid was planned out, calculating when the target would be within their reach, when their guard would be down. A group of four or five went out, only the most stealthy among them, to board the ship. It was a different approach to the all out brawls when other pirate ships attacked vessels. They were a small crew, and many times outnumbered by the sailors aboard the large cargo ships. Amaranth operated in the way she knew how, silently and keeping to the shadows.

The ones who came on the raids had spent their lives living in them, and knew how to use it to their advantage. Stealth spells such as Invisibility and casting Sleep, would give them even more of an upper hand. Because so few of them went with only a small rowboat , it was impossible to carry the cargo back themselves. They used a magic black cloth, which could be folded up as small as a handkerchief, but when opened, items could be pushed into it like the opening of a hole. Then the fabric was folded up again, all of their plunder safely stored inside. They would steal as much loot as they could in the small time-frame they had, then empty it all out in triumph when they made it back to the _Blinking Star._

In any case, the idea of attacking a merchant ship didn’t sit right with her. She had no desire to kill the same sailors who had shown her acceptance when she began her new life. No, her reputation wasn’t exactly one of a cutthroat, but rather a thief in the night.

It was a rarity when they were caught, but the skirmishes were usually brief before the _Blinking Star_ would vanish back into the night. The ship gained a bit of infamy because of this. Amaranth was amused to learn what gossip was told about the _Star._ She would ask innocuously at taverns, to see if there was information. One rumor was that the ship was from the Ethereal Plane itself.

While looting was a mainstay of their ship, the spirit of adventure was more so. The _Star_ sailed across the Elraus Sea and beyond. Their main outpost was off the coast of Umedash, where a few small islands called the Dread Isles were a known safe haven for pirates. Magical wards had been placed there a long time ago by pirates to avoid detection. It was an advantageous place to retreat to if the ship had taken damage, or was being pursued by a navel vessel. The Dread Isles were a refuge from the law, but still a dangerous place if someone didn’t know the proper codes of conduct.

Amaranth had to work to maintain her reputation as a pirate captain. Little bloodshed and carnage meant she was weak, and not to be taken seriously. That was was quickly put to rest one night in a seedy tavern. A large unruly pirate saw her new face, green among the other weathered pirate captains, and decided she would be an easy target to be made an example of. Before her crew could even draw their weapons in her defense, her blade flashed out, and the man was dead on the ground, his throat cut open. The other criminals in the tavern murmured to each other, but she had garnered their respect. She would kill if she had to.

Amaranth learned to negotiate with other captains there for trade or agreements to help with safe ship passage. Sometimes it was decided through formal negotiations, or an all out brawl (and sometimes negotiations turned into a brawl). There was a code amongst pirates that they wouldn’t attack another recognized pirate ship. Sometimes there were stipulations, such long running bad blood between crews, but otherwise it held true.

Once the _Blinking Star_ garnered their spoils, the crew would make their way to the closest port of call, and spend a few nights partaking in various debauchery and revelry. Tavern keepers, although sometimes fearful knowing that they were pirates, would tend to let them stay, as plenty of coin for rum and whisky was provided. The celebration would last long into the night, with sea shanties sung with vigor, scandalous dancing, and a lot of increasingly poor choices from an inebriated crew member that would result in a bar fight (more often than not it was Amaranth).

Townspeople would whisper to each other in suspicion. Some were more intrigued knowing that pirates had stopped by their small port town. Amaranth learned this intrigue from people often lead to even more interesting nights. She would tell stories to breathless tavern-goers of the dangers of the high seas. Then she would flirt with whomever thought that the opportunity to be bedded by a pirate was a thrill, and Amaranth was more than happy meet that expectation.

On one such night, the crew found themselves in a rowdy tavern. A band in the corner played an energized jaunty tune with various flutes, string instruments and hand-held drums, and patrons were dancing with each other to the music. Amaranth sat at a table with Ward and Ghilanna, drinking ale, and watched as Rae danced with a handsome half-orc. Rae caught Amaranth’s eyes and excitedly pointed to his dance partner as they both spun around. Amaranth laughed and raised a drink to him. The song ended and Rae exchanged some words with the half-orc, who suddenly looked affronted and moved elsewhere. Rae came back over to the table, appearing a little flustered and a out of breath from dancing.

“What happened?” Ward asked eagerly, seemingly ready for drama.

“Ah, it’s fine, it’s fine. He wasn’t into my whole… pirate thing.”

“An upstanding citizen type, huh?” Amaranth asked. “His loss.”

“I suppose,” Rae sighed. He slumped down in his chair. “He was cute though,” he muttered. Ghilanna silently pushed a drink towards him. He grabbed it and took a big gulp.

Amaranth tipsily slung an arm around him. “Ah, you’re a fish! I mean, catch. You’ll find a cuter fish. I mean… you’ll catch a cuter… hm.” Amaranth took another swig of ale.

Rae laughed a little. “I appreciate the sentiment.”

“Do my eyes deceive me or is that _Fury_? Captain of the Blinking Star?” said a voice behind them. She turned to see Ilara, another pirate captain Amaranth knew from their visits to the Dread Isles. Well, she was a former pirate captain. Recently she was commissioned by the government as a privateer. She was a formidable human with short blond hair, a rapier strapped to her side, and a scar that ran over one of her warm brown eyes. She looked at Amaranth with a smile and raised eyebrow, her muscular arms crossed.  

“Hey, didn’t you and her…” Ward began to say in a gleeful tone.

“Yeah, shut up,” Amaranth said. _Ah fuck, I’m too sloshed for this shit._

“I didn’t expect to run into you right next to Talos! Don’t they have a warrant out for you there?”

“Lots of places do,” Amaranth said nonchalantly. Ilara casually situated herself in a chair next to Amaranth, grinning at her.

“I’ve been hearing interesting things about you,” she drawled. “Apparently your ship has never left a body count, and doesn’t take any prisoners? Some people are saying you’re too soft.”

“I would ask you not to speak to the captain that way,” Ghilanna said calmly, steepling her long fingers. Amaranth lightly put a hand on Ghilanna’s arm.

“At least I didn’t sell out my ideals to the law and back-stab my own people,” Amaranth said, taking another drink.

“Ooooh.” Ward said, clearly enjoying themself.  

“That’s pretty harsh,” Ilara commented, a wry smile on her face. “Consider my position, Fury. I’m doing this for the security of my crew, so we won’t have to worry about be chased, arrested or killed. We give them a percentage of our money, but other than that, we essentially have all the freedoms you have.”

“Give them an inch, they’ll walk all over you,” Amaranth said. “And we both know you can be commissioned to capture pirate ships.”

“It’s true,” Ilara conceded. “No worries though, I’m not after you. I don’t think I could be even if they hired me to. I like you too much for that.”

Amaranth felt her face grow warm, so she quickly took another drink. “What’re you hired for then?”

Ilara’s easy expression turned a bit somber.“A merchant vessel disappeared off the coast of Amedara. We’re being sent to investigate. It didn’t arrive on schedule, and it’s been over two months since anyone has seen heads or tails of it. So they could be lost at sea, or worse.”

Ghilanna raised her drink. “May Selŭne guide them home.”  

“May she guide them,” the others intoned, also raising their drinks in respect.

“We all know these seas are dangerous,” Ilara continued, after a moment. “So there’s a hundred things that might have happened. The entire crew could have walked off the ship under the influence of a siren song.”

“Most sirens I have spoken to are perfectly respectable,” Ghilanna said.

“Odds are they were hit by a bad storm.” Ilara shrugged, and stood up. “That’s what I’m investigating, and then I’ll get paid by _the man_.” She gave a casual salute at them with two fingers. “ I apologize if I put a damper on the evening with this topic. I won’t take up more of your time. Enjoy the party.” As she turned to go, she paused, and glanced back at Amaranth. “It was good catching up with you, Fury. Perhaps we can catch up more later on tonight.”

Amaranth flushed, and wondered if her face was an even darker shade of red. “Uh, yup. Cool. You too. Good catchin’ up. As well.” She leaned on the table to appear casual and ended up knocking over the rest of her ale. Ilara winked at her and sauntered over to the bar, disappearing into the rowdy crowd.

“Wow, captain, you were totally off your game,” Ward remarked.

“Thanks.” Amaranth clonked her head on the table. “Ow.”

“You’re a dork,” Rae said fondly.

“Rae, not in front of the crew,” Amaranth moaned, still face down. Ward hid an obvious fit of laughter in their ale, while Ghilanna smiled slightly.

\--

On a visit to the Dread Isles, when they were stationed in the pirate haven of Smuggler’s Rest, Amaranth asked around to see if anyone knew a tattoo artist. Rae tagged along with her, citing that he wanted to make sure she wouldn’t choose something stupid as a tattoo. They were pointed in the direction of a rather shady run-down parlor, lit from within by a single lamp. She watched as a large daunting man sauntered out, a fresh tattoo on his arm of what looked like an ooze with a heart around it. “What’re ya starin’ at,” he growled, as he lumbered past Amaranth and Rae.

“See what I mean,” Rae said, as they entered the parlor.

“Can I help you,” came the squeaky voice of the tattoo artist, an older looking gnome with an eyepatch under his giant glasses.

“Yeah. I’m interested in getting a tattoo. Here.” She indicated to where the burn scar marked her neck and shoulder. Rae looked a bit surprised.

“You wish for somethin’ to cover it with?” the gnome said, cleaning his glasses.

“Not to cover,” Amaranth said. “I just want something… better. To show who I am now. Where I’ve been.” Rae smiled a little.

“That can be arranged,” squeaked the gnome. “How about you, son? Are you interested in a tattoo?”

Rae shook his head, his hand rubbing over his own burn mark. “I’m alright with what I have now.”

“Okay, then.” He held out his small hand. “Thirty gold for the lot of it.”

Amaranth described the image she wanted. Across her neck and shoulder, the symbol of the _Blinking Star_ in the yellow and gold of the sun and stars _._ Down her right arm, a ship on the ocean with the blue of the sea and the sky, melting into the red flower of her namesake. It was a few hours later when they arrived back to her crew. Amaranth was beaming, and showing off her tattoo sleeve as they crowded around her

“Woah, cool tats,” Moat said, impressed.

“You got it done on your whole arm in one-shot? Usually people go back more than once. Must have hurt like a motherfucker,” Rush commented.

“They do?” Amaranth asked incredulously. “I mean… well, I didn’t want to spend more gold, so I decided to do it all at once. Barely felt a thing!”

It did actually hurt quite a bit. She had been cursing up a storm as the old gnome worked. Rae had sat with the patience of a monk as she repeatedly grabbed his arm.

“The good thing about this magic ink is that it’s unfading,” Amaranth said, admiring the bright colors. “Just like the _Star_ and what she symbolizes. I don’t ever want that to fade.”

“Just like you,” Rae said with a smile.

“What do you mean?” Amaranth asked.

“She won’t fade, and neither will you.”

“You can be annoyingly poetic about things, Rae,” Amaranth teased, nudging him.

“Annoying, but truthful.”

-

Time went on. The _Blinking Star_ traveled across the open sea, wherever their wanderlust took them. Amaranth captained the ship, Rae always by her side. They followed rumors like the wind, it led them to treasure, hidden cities, paradise islands. They journeyed over the ocean, and no matter where they went, they were together.

 


	7. Before the Storm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for blood and violence, slave trafficking, as well as a bad time with dissociation and flashbacks in this chapter.

The travels of the _Blinking Star_ came with its fair share of dangers. Peril was nothing new to them. The ship narrowly avoided capture on more than one occasion, it navigated through storms, escaped disgruntled sea monsters.

And it wasn’t without seeing evil. Amaranth came face to face with it. The same evil that she ran from.

The first whispers she heard happened a few months after her run in with Ilara.

The crew was spending time in a small town near Amedara, enjoying an evening at the local tavern. It was the usual celebratory atmosphere, patrons singing, dancing, laughing uproariously. So it caught her eye when she noticed Magog in the far corner of the tavern, away from everyone. He was talking to another tavern-goer, and there was something low and urgent in his normally jovial voice that caught her attention. She wandered over, picking up the last pieces of conversation.

“... and it was just empty? Where the hells did the crew go?”

The other person was a half-elf, Amaranth could tell they were a sailor by the way their skin was tanned and wrinkled with sun. They glanced around nervously. “We found one survivor and…” They shuddered as though a chill had gone through the warm tavern. “Everyone else was gone. Vanished. No bodies. No anything.”

“One survivor,” Amaranth said, frowning. “On the abandoned ship?”

The half-elf looked up at her, eyes wide. “It wasn’t abandoned, that’s the thing. Just no trace of what _they_ did to the crew. And the survivor… was… he was no longer what I would say, in his right mind. He was in a cage, couldn’t talk, jus’ kept making these _noises_ , and clawin’ at himself. Don’t know if they left him as an example or what.”

A coldness trickled down Amaranth’s spine. The laughing and music around them had faded into the background.  

“There was some sort of dark magic there, I could feel it in my bones. Some are sayin’ this is the work of the _Devil’s Dirge_.”

It was hard to tell in the dingy tavern light but Magog went a shade paler. The name sounded familiar, but it took a moment for her to pinpoint it. Amaranth had only heard the name spoken in the way urban legends were.

“Magog,” she asked. “Do you know about them?” He nodded and took a heavy drink from his tankard.

“A giant galleon, no one knows who the crew or captain is. No one’s ever seen ‘em, or knows what they’re after. Once they mark you they don’t stop until they hunt you down. Some say devils themselves are aboard, and they drag the crew of the ships they capture down to the hells with ‘em.”

Amaranth leaned forward. “You believe this?”

“Aye, I do, and I urge you to take caution, captain. If they’re at large again, then we must be on guard.”

She thought for a moment. “There was a merchant vessel, said to have disappeared off the cost of Amedara,” she said. “Was this the same ship?”

“It was,” said a familiar voice, causing Amaranth to jump. Ilara sat a table over. Amaranth had somehow completely missed the privateer’s entrance, she had been so absorbed by Magog’s words.

“The survivor couldn’t give us much, poor soul. He was humming a tune over and over again. Some sort of magic must have messed with him.” Ilara shook her head. She seemed more stoic than her half-elf crew member, but her expression was unusually dark. “We took him to some clerics to see if he could be healed. Maybe get more information.”

“Do you believe in this _Devil’s Dirge_ as well?” Amaranth asked her.

“I believe that anything is possible,” Ilara answered. “We sailors have all sorts of tales and superstitions about the sea. A lot of them have a root of truth to them.”

Magog grunted in agreement. “On our last visit to the Dread Isles, there were rumors about a devil curse. More than one pirate ship vanishin’ at sea. But if a pirate goes missin’, that’s less noticeable than sailors on a merchant ship.”

Ilara looked troubled. “So maybe this isn’t an isolated incident.”

“The _Devil’s Dirge_ won’t stop until it’s had its fill,” the half-elf said gravely. “And the Hells are never sated.”

-

Later that evening, after the festivities had died down, Amaranth and Ilara took full advantage of renting a room in the tavern. They lay next to each other in bed, the sheets entangled around them, and their clothes scattered haphazardly around the room.

“Be careful out there. I don’t know if there is really something preying on sailors. But if you saw what I did…” Ilara shuddered. She wasn’t easily shaken.

“You know pirates can’t be careful by nature,” Amaranth joked. “It comes in the job description.”  

“I’m serious, Fury.” Ilara propped herself up in the bed to look directly at her. “There’s some nasty stuff out there. I don’t want to see you hurt by it.”

Amaranth was a little taken aback by her intensity. “As long as you do the same. I’ll look out for my crew, and you look out for yours.”

“Captain’s agreement then?” Ilara asked.

“Hm. You know I can’t trust a privateer,” Amaranth answered with a roguish grin.

“Guess I’ll just have to do some more convincing then,” Ilara smirked, and kissed her.

-

In the following months, Amaranth heard the name of the _Devil’s Dirge_ in dark mutterings from other seafarers. They were whispered fearfully among sailors and pirates alike. Rumors of dark magic, twisting and torturing minds until they were unrecognizable. Of ships vanishing without trace. Of crews being dragged to the Hells.

A dark storm built on the horizon, but despite it, the _Blinking Star_ sailed, as she always did.

And then one night, her ship chanced upon a darkness, more heinous than anything they had ever come across. It was the darkness that Amaranth fled from, even though it always lurked beneath the depths of her nightmares.

They were ready to raid a merchant vessel. It’s colors indicated it dealt in trade from the city of Miwith Shili. Usually in spices, fine wines, high-quality items and food that could be sold for a profit, as well as plundered for themselves. Amaranth and her crew planned to sneak aboard in the dead of night. A few spells to put the ship to sleep and to keep Amaranth’s crew stealthy and invisible, they make off with the cargo, then roll and go. It should have been straight- forward. They’ve done this numerous times.

“Get ready to board, on my signal,” Amaranth murmured. Rae, Jaster and Aletha crouched in the rowboat, which silently bobbed over the waves, a guppy compared to the whale of a ship. She nodded to Aletha, who clutched a pendant around her neck, muttering something under her breath. Aletha and Jaster shimmered into invisibility. Rae blinked out of sight using his own innate magic. It was always slightly disorienting when that happened, but as long as they had planned ahead, they knew where the others were. Aletha created an illusion over the rowboat, an inconspicuous dark mass of seaweed.

As they closed in on the stern, Amaranth whispered, “Now.” Grappling hooks flew upward and latched onto the side. They swiftly climbed upwards on the ropes. Jaster quickly hitched his rope around a cleat. The other end was knotted to the rowboat, a quick way to escape. Aletha stayed behind, keeping up her spell and ready to cut and run for their getaway when the time came.

The wind had picked up, masking any noise they may have made. She checked to make sure the coast was clear and motioned the others forward, and they swung over the side of the ship. Amaranth quickly ducked behind a big barrel. The ship was large enough that she immediately spotted a few advantageous hiding spots. She knew the other two were close by. Amaranth moved through the shadows with ease, manipulating them closer to her. They made their way below deck, into the cargo hold.

She pressed herself against the side of the ship, signaling the others to stop. She listened, and there was nothing but the creaks of the ship and the flap of the sail. It was quiet. Then she heard something else. It sounded like a noise from a wounded animal. Whimpers, and fearful whispers.

Amaranth felt an instinct flare up telling her something was horribly, horribly wrong. Something about this ship was off.

In the darkness of the cargo hold, there was movement. A soft clinking of metal. Amaranth tensed, her hand going to the hilt of her sword.

Then her blood ran cold.

There, huddled in the hold of the ship, were nearly a dozen people in chains, adults and children. All staring at her with wide and scared eyes.

“Fuck,” Rae whispered hoarsely.  

“This ship’s been seized by fuckin’ flesh traffickers,” Jaster spat out. “It’s a slaver.”

Amaranth hadn’t moved or said anything. Something in her was screaming and screaming, and it couldn’t stop.

“P-Please, don’t hurt us.” A haggard looking woman with stringy black hair addressed Amaranth with a weak voice. Her hands were shackled, and she protectively held a young red dragonborn, who clung to her, terrified. Despite her wretched condition, she looked into Amaranth’s eyes, unwavering. “We want no quarrel with you. They took us here against our will. We just want to go home…”

The screaming grew louder, until it was the only thing that filled her mind. Everything around her dimmed as she was dragged down beneath her memories, into a suffocating darkness.

And then a white-hot fury erupted in her chest.

Amaranth turned, and started walking. It felt like she was moving underwater. She unsheathed her blades with deathly intent as she ascended the stairs to the main deck. The voices of her crew called after her, but they seemed far away.

The night breeze met her. The moon bathed everything in a ghostly light, reflecting off both of her cutlasses. Then the shouts of alarm and confusion started. She was spotted immediately. It was hard to miss the tiefling madwoman, seemingly materialized from nowhere in the middle of the ship with her weapons drawn. Amaranth stepped across the deck towards them.

A large man, who she took to be the captain made his way off the forecastle deck. He grinned at her, showing off a few gold teeth. His eyes were cold, soulless. Familiar.

“Seems we’re under attack, boys,” the captain said sarcastically. “Gotta hand it to you for bein’ able to slip in under our noses. But luckily for us, we have room for more cargo. ” There was laughter and hoots from the other slavers.

“Subdue her,” he ordered. His crew immediately began to close in, pulling out weapons, chains. Amaranth didn’t slow her gait. The searing rage that had been burning in her became a roaring inferno. A smile curled on her lips.

Then she struck. A maddened fervor took hold of her. She danced and weaved across the deck, her swords slicing through body after body. Her head was filled with screaming and fire.

And then she blinked and looked down and her swords were dripping blood. The night was silent again. The deck was awash with moonlight, and it was damp with the blood of the slavers that lay dead around her. Part of the deck had been scorched, blackening the wood, and a body was charred and twisted beyond recognition. The smell of blood and burning flesh mingled strangely with the ocean air. 

Rae had appeared in front of her. He was saying something, his eyes wide with frantic concern. His own bloodied rapier was drawn in one hand, and the other hovered in front of her, as though worried about touching her.

“...’Ranth?! Can you hear me? Are you hurt?”

“I don’t think so,” she answered.

Jaster emerged from the lower deck, a small key that he picked off one of the slavers in his hand. Aletha stood next to him, looking grim as she surveyed the deck, and spoke to someone over her shoulder. The former prisoners slowly straggled out into the night breeze, in varying states of shock. Their hands and feet were no longer manacled. Some of them shielded the eyes of the children, turning them away from the grisly scene.

Amaranth realized she still had her cutlasses drawn. “Start gettin’ rid of these bodies,” she ordered blurrily. She sheathed the swords.

Then Amaranth spotted a body that was still moving. It was the captain, dragging himself across the deck. He was on death’s door. She walked over to him and stood there, watching him struggle pitifully for a moment. Then she crushed her boot onto his hand. There was a satisfying crunch.

He screamed in pain. As he looked up at her, his expression became one of terror.

“Don’t kill me! Gods, I beg of you! If you spare me, I-I can get you treasure beyond your wildest dreams! Riches that would put a king to shame!” Figured the vile bastard was immediately begging for her mercy. She had none to give. She grabbed him by the collar and slammed his head viciously into the mainmast. She felt her crew looking on, silently.

“I’m not interested in your fuckin’ money,” she said.

“I-I can be an asset to your crew, I have skills, resources, connections-” he babbled desperately.

“Shut up.” She tightened her grip on his collar. 

“Even pirates have a Code they follow,” Amaranth said, deadly quiet. “And we’ve a rule on my ship. No takin’ slaves. And the penalty for breakin’ it is death.”

Some of the previous captives had slowly walked forward, watching what was unfolding.

“Seems like you’re okay with takin’ people away from their lives. Their loved ones. And I’m sure as hell okay with takin’ the life of a slavin’ bastard like you.”

She glanced up at the sickly looking people in tattered clothing standing around them. In their eyes she recognized the same anger she felt, directed entirely at their captor.

“But unluckily for you, I ain’t gonna be the one killin’. I would’ve made it fast.” She released his collar, and stood up, spitting on the ground in front of him. “He’s all yours.”

She stepped back as half of them converged on him. All of his gloating demeanour from before was completely gone, and he was incoherently pleading for his life. One of them had rolled a barrel over, and another found a thick rope. They stood him on the barrel in front of the mast and threw the rope over the yardarm, wrapping a noose around his neck. Amaranth looked on, completely expressionless.

“Any last words,” growled an older woman with wild graying hair and sun-spotted skin. Amaranth wouldn’t have given the bastard the decency of last words, but she wasn’t going to judge. The woman was the one who suffered by his hands. She could fucking recite off all his last rites and give him a moment to pray to his gods for all Amaranth cared.  

The captain suddenly laughed, high and hysterically. His frantic eyes looked directly into Amaranth’s. “They’ll find you! You don’t know what you’ve fuckin’ done here tonight! Your ship will be cursed! They’ll hunt you down and do worse than what we could’ve ever done to you!”

The barrel was kicked out from under him, and the rope went taut. Amaranth didn’t take her eyes away until his body stopped moving. The freed prisoners cheered, some cursing and spitting on the body. Some just looked relieved or nauseous.

The woman Amaranth had first seen in the hold walked up to her, clutching the red dragonborn child’s hand.

“Thank you,” she said softly. Amaranth just nodded. The young dragonborn looked up at her with wide eyes. It was only then Amaranth realized she was drenched with blood. Across her coat, her face. She must have been a fucking lovely sight for these people. She wished the kid would look away. They just kept fucking staring at her. Her mind felt like it was fraying at the seams.

Rae had come up behind her, and started talking with the woman, one hand on Amaranth’s arm. He always seemed to have a sense when something was off with her. A fog settled inside Amaranth’s head, muffling what was happening.

“... the original crew,” the woman was saying to Rae. “Most of them were killed… I…I don’t know where they took the rest of them. But I overheard one of them say, that they were keeping them… for a richer reward.”

Amaranth was already moving. Rae called something after her, but she didn’t stop. He shouted at Jaster to stay on the main deck, before following her.

“Amaranth-” Rae said, but she wasn’t listening. She was below deck again, storming lower through the ship, until she was at the very bottom, the orlop deck. And she saw them. Cages lined the deck. And there were people inside of them. The captured crew.

Amaranth pulled her thieves’ tools from her pocket. Her hands shook as she jimmied the lock on the first cage. The sound pulled her back, back when she was trapped and they would unlock the cage to shove in scraps of food or water- _It was dark and cramped, she couldn’t get AWAY-_

-she couldn’t think about that now, she couldn’t, she couldn’t.  

Finally, it swung open. A human sat inside, face dirty, eyes glazed over and staring. She shook them, and there was no response. She moved to the next cage. And the next. One after another the cages opened, and they stared at her, or more accurately stared _through_ her. There was no reaction, they didn’t move. The hopelessness, the _despair_ , she felt from them was palpable. It was as though something had stolen their will to fight, leaving them nothing more than an empty husk of who they were.

What the _fuck_ had happened here? The slaver captain’s final words came to mind. The half-elf and Ilara’s encounter with the abandoned ship. Curses. Sailors disappearing. Dark Magic. Could they have been…?

They weren’t waking up. Amaranth shivered and realized that it was significantly colder, and it seemed to seep into her like a bilge slowly filling with water. Rae had walked over to the wall and was examining something. He cursed under his breath.

“There’s a glyph of some kind here. It might be what’s keeping them in that state.”

A strange symbol that she didn’t recognize was cut into the wood. Amaranth drew her dagger, but Rae stopped her.

“’Ranth, don’t touch it,” he said sharply. She opened her mouth to protest, and he shot her a firm look. “Let me do this, okay?” Amaranth didn’t respond. He unsheathed his knife, examining the glyph for another moment. Then he began to scrape over it, carving his knife into the wood of the wall. He visibly shuddered, and she saw his breath in the air, as though the temperature had dropped, but he pushed through, his face set in determination.

Amaranth heard stirring behind her, soft groans. The crew was waking up from whatever influence they were under. Rae stepped back, the wall now cut with knife marks, marring the symbol. Amaranth touched her hand to her blood soaked coat, and pressed it on the wood. She smeared the blood over it, in the shape of a star.

-

They were above deck again. Amaranth didn’t remember going above deck. Rae had his hand resting on her arm. The bodies had been disposed of. The scent of blood hung heavy in the air. She reminded herself to breathe. She felt oddly disconnected to everything around her, numb. She concentrated on Rae’s hand. He was talking to a bedraggled crewmember, who was huddled under a blanket wrapped around their shoulders.

“... should take three days. Push towards Stormhaven, they’ll give you sanctuary. ”

“Thank you…” The crewmember was as pale as ghost, shivering hard. “More of us need to recover… we barely have our wits about us right now. B-But, I’ll give the order as soon as possible.”

“As swiftly as you can manage.”

“Aye. But…what are your names? Your vessel’s name? We all owe you a great debt.”  

“It doesn’t matter. Just go quickly. May Selŭne guide you home,” Rae said with a nod.  Amaranth heard a few of the former prisoners thank her as Rae gently led her away.

“Is she okay,” Aletha asked in a small voice. Amaranth blinked. They were back in the rowboat. Jastra and Aletha were paddling back to the ship. They both were pale, and looked… scared. For her? Of her?

“She will be,” Rae answered. His firm grip around her kept her from shattering.

-

Once they arrived back at the _Blinking Star,_ the other crew members crowded around in alarm and worry.

“Holy shit, she’s covered in blood!” Amaranth heard Ward exclaim in horror. “Is she hurt?”

“Stop crowding,” Jaster snapped. He and Aletha were doing their best to keep the rest of the crew back. “Give her space.”

“Ghilanna will take care of her,” Rae told them all. “She just needs some rest right now. All of you get back to your posts.”

Amaranth was led below deck, down to the sick bay. Ghilanna gently sat her down, beginning to check her for any injuries. She quickly started peeling off Amaranth’s blood soaked coat and other outer garments. Amaranth felt strange, like she was floating out of her body and watching this all take place to her.

“It’s not her blood,” Rae said quickly. “At least, I don’t think so. There were slavers, and she killed all of them. Now she isn’t talking, so I don’t know if she was hurt. Sometimes she gets like this. It hasn’t happened in a very long time but… i-it’s like she’s… not fully there.”

“I see,” Ghilanna said quietly. “In that case, do what you would normally do to calm her. She is in shock, although it doesn’t seem to be due to physical injury. I’ll check for any wounds and clean off the blood.” The elf quickly picked up her water decanter. It was enchanted to produce an endless supply of fresh water on command. An item like that was priceless to a crew at sea.

She poured water on a cloth, and methodically began to rinse the splattered blood from Amaranth’s face, softly chanting a prayer in Elvish. The gentle press of the cold damp cloth was enough to jolt Amaranth back to herself. She shivered, feeling the chilly air against her bare skin, and tried to breathe evenly.

Rae knelt in front of her and took her hands, squeezing them. His hands were warm, and they were real when everything else didn’t feel like it. “I’m here, _mensi_.”

“That was the first time,” Amaranth said blankly.  

“What?” Rae asked. She could tell he was alarmed, but doing his best not to show it.

“That I killed during a raid. And I’ll keep killin’ until every last one of them is dead. I’ll fuckin’ rip them to pieces.” Amaranth was shaking, her body rocked back and forth. She was barely coherent. Her words tore from her throat with a low growl. “Stab out their eyes. Burn off their skin, let them sit in agony, and I’ll do it _again and again and again_ …”   

Rae was trying to soothe her, his thumb gently stroking her hand. “Shhh… it’s okay. You’re safe. They’re gone now.”

She shook harder as she dissolved into helpless laughter. Rae kept holding her hands. Later on, he helped her clean her clothing. It took a while for the blood to wash out.

-

It wasn’t until the next day that she went back onto the main deck. Her head throbbed miserably, and the sun’s rays did nothing to help the pain. She had spent the night trying to numb herself by drinking. It was only when Rae gently plucked the glass from her hand that she stopped.

Amaranth nervously straightened her coat in an effort to appear more put together. She wondered if her crew would look at her differently. She was nearly certain Aletha and Jaster told the rest of them what had actually happened on the ship.

She was pissed at herself for her loss of control the night before. A crew didn’t need a fucking unhinged captain.They were lucky they all made it out alive. She couldn’t afford to let something like that happen again.

“Cap’n,” Magog greeted in his usual jovial voice. “It’s good to see you well. Any orders to go forward?”

“Uh, yes. Make ready to sail Westward. Euna can take the helm today, I’ll need you to help chart our course towards Amedara.”

Magog nodded, and walked back out on the deck to yell the orders to the rest of the crew who promptly sprung to their stations. Amaranth squinted a little in the light. Some of the crew shouted their greetings and well wishes to her.

Magog saw her confusion. “Aye, Jaster told me what happened. The rest know as well.  You’re lucky that the blood on you was theirs, and not yours. It was idiotically dangerous takin’ them on by yourself.” He looked out at the crew. “But, this lot have all done things that we’re not proud of. Freein’ innocent people held against their will is noble. You exterminated some vermin, and the world is better for it.”

Amaranth nodded and let out a breath. Magog glanced side-long at her, taking in her disheveled appearance.

“Are ya cut up about killin’ them?”

“No. They deserved worse.” Amaranth was quiet for a moment, unsure of how to explain what happened. “When I was on that ship and saw those people in chains…” She brought a hand over her tired face. “Reminded me of shit and fucked with my head. And then I was out of it for a while.”

Magog nodded. “Some of my mates had that. I won’t lie and say that hasn’t happened to me. Ghilanna says clerics and doctors see it from soldiers, and other people who’ve been through fucked up shit. They call it a kind of psychic wound, that festers in ya. Becomes an illness of the mind. It can’t just be healed with a spell. It’s too tangled up in memories and feelings to jus’ yank out. She says doin’ that could cause more damage to the person.”

Amaranth was quiet. She never heard it described in such a way. She had always thought of herself as having an insanity in her. That she was broken. That she wasn’t normal. Normal people wouldn’t feel the things she felt. Or try to stop themselves from feeling those things like she did. It was a little comforting to know other people had a similar illness. Only a little. “What fixes it?”

Magog sighed. “It’s somethin’ that can never fully be fixed, I’m afraid. Some people visit with the clerics just to talk to them.”

“Talkin’ about it,” Amaranth snorted. “Sure.”

“Hey if it works, it works,” Magog shrugged. “But I ain’t no cleric. That’s just what I know.”

For the rest of the day, Amaranth was quieter than usual. She noticed Rae keeping a closer eye on her.

“It’s fine, Rae,” she finally told him. “You don’t gotta worry about me.”

“...You were drinking to get to sleep again. Not the fun kind of drinking. You could’ve really made yourself sick.”

“It’s _fine_ ,” Amaranth suddenly shouted at him. “I don’t need another fuckin’ lecture from you!” Rae just looked at her for a moment before walking away. Amaranth regretted her outburst at him, but she was inwardly fuming. If she was being honest with herself, it was because she knew he was right. She was angry at her own weakness.

-

Later in the evening, the sunset cast the ship in orange light. Amaranth spotted Rae up in the rigging, doing repairs. She climbed up next to him, her tail curling around the ropes to help keep balance. They were silent for a while. Her hair softly shifted in the breeze, and she looked out into the ocean.

“I’m sorry,” she said quietly, breaking the silence. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. ‘Specially not after all you did to help me yesterday. But… sometimes you worry about me too much.”

Rae paused in the middle of tightening a lanyard. “Someone has to,” he said.

"That's just it, isn't it," Amaranth said with a small laugh. "You've always looked out for me. Even when I do something idiotic." She was quiet for another minute, staring at the horizon.

"Sometimes I... I feel so  _much,_ it's like I'm splitting in two pieces. When I don't want to feel or remember, drinking helps... numb it, I guess." She closed her eyes for a moment, feeling the sea air on her face, tasting the salt on the breeze.

"There are moments that make me remember. And I'm back in that place. In the darkness. But then there are other times when a part of me is burning like fire... and I can't contain it." 

Rae's gaze was soft, a smile on his face. "The fire is what got you out of the darkness. What got us both out. It's why this crew follows you, and why this ship does what she does. It's your fury."  
  
"Fury got the better of me yesterday, didn't she," Amaranth said tiredly. Rae leaned on the rigging, his blue eyes reflecting the brilliant sunset.

"She also saved those people. She fights back against what hurt her. Just like any fire, she's destructive. For good, or not. I've seen it do incredible things, but I've also seen it burn you."

"I'd rather burn than be trapped," Amaranth said softly. "And I'd burn myself and everything to the ground if it meant protecting you."  
  
Rae reached out, his hand entwining over hers on the rigging. The sun had nearly sunk below the horizon, bleeding reds and oranges across the expanse of sky. The ocean reflected it, and seemed alight with fire.

-

The days went on. The encounter with the slaver ship sat uneasily in all of their minds. Amaranth wondered of that strange symbol, the coldness, the hollowness in the sailor’s eyes. The rumors of the devil ship seemed to weigh heavier in the air.

Unbeknownst to her, freeing the prisoners had sent out a ripple effect, disturbing the dark water and the devils. The _Dirge_ had turned it’s course toward them, and had them in its sights.

The _Blinking Star_ sailed, even as the undercurrent of the _Devil’s Dirge_ drew closer.

 


	8. The Devil's Dirge

It happened the night of the Storm, when her world was ripped from her the second time.

A storm approached. The beginnings of it gathered forebodingly on the edges of the horizon. The swirling dark clouds would alight with distant flashes of lightning. Only a few stars were visible, making it difficult to navigate.

Amaranth wanted to push straight towards the closest port of call. If all went well they would be able to arrive at the coast of Amedara before the storm overtook them within a day. The _Blinking Star’s_ crew had taken up their duties, an occasional sea shanty picked up by the wind. It was then that a warning rang out from the crow’s nest.

“Ship ahoy, off the port bow!”

Amaranth and the crew quickly hurried to the port side of the ship. It was difficult to see at first, even looking through her spyglass. Their surroundings were obscured by a sudden influx of sea smoke, the wind had picked it up, encircling the _Blinking Star_ in a light mist. But soon, they were able to pick out the outline. It wasn’t a large vessel. No colors raised, and no signs of slowing down as it made it’s way towards them. Amaranth narrowed her eyes. She had been on edge the last few days since their encounter with the slaver ship. This didn’t sit right with her.

“Send them a warning. Run a shot across the bow,” Amaranth ordered. Aletha and Groor quickly loaded the canon, and with a roar it fired, striking the dark ship in her front. There wasn’t a change. It continued to silently drift towards them, not deterred in the slightest.

Rae had come up next to her. His brow furrowed as he peered through the mist. “The ship… there’s something wrong with it.”

It took a moment, then Amaranth realized what he meant. The ship had been severely ravaged. The sails were torn through, the hull was gutted. There was no life on board. And it continued to silently advance towards them, with a steady speed. Amaranth realized it would collide within a minute if they were still in its intended path.

“Fuckin’ hell,” Amaranth growled. “Brace for impact!” she called to the crew, as they shouted to one another and grabbed the rigging. She began to run towards the helm, shouting, “Euna! Hard pull to starboard-”

The entire ship suddenly shuddered as two ships smashed together. There was the sound of wood splintering and crashing, as the invading ship scraped up alongside the _Blinking Star_ , now broadside to broadside. The deck shook beneath them, throwing everything off balance. Her crew members shouted and she stumbled, but quickly righted herself. She took quick stock of the damage. Nothing the _Star_ couldn’t handle, superficial at best. Rae had lost his balance and fell, and she hauled him up.

There were sudden shouts of fear from her crew, and Amaranth whirled around, and her eyes widened. On the mast of the ship, words began to appear. It was as though they were being scratched into the wood by an invisible hand. Slowly, they gathered around it, murmuring to each other, waiting to see what it would say.

_We seek to parley with the Captain_

Below it was a familiar symbol. It was the same one she had seen on the slaver ship. She and Rae exchanged a startled look. Fearful exclamations and mutterings swept over the crew, and the unspoken fear of what the signs pointed to hung in the air.

Amaranth took a breath and addressed them. “Whatever this is, it wants an audience with me. If the rumors are true and this is a trick of the _Devil’s Dirge…_ then, well… I expect you all to cut and run. Rae, you’re in charge.”

“I’m not letting you go there by yourself,” Rae said firmly.

“Are you crazy, Captain!?” Ward snapped. “You’ll be walking right into a trap.”

“Could be. But I get the feelin’ this has to do with the slaver. And I ain't lettin’ anyone on this ship take a punishment that was meant for me.”

“Oh please, that’s a load of shit,” Jaster said, rolling his eyes. “You know we stand by freeing those people.”

Amaranth’s eyes flitted over to the dead silent ship, weighing her options.

“Numbers may be a good bet here, if it’s a trap.” She finally conceded, and motioned to her crew. “Groor, Moat, Aletha and Jaster, you’re with me. At the first sign of any shit they try to pull, no quarter. Everyone else, stay at your posts and be ready for anything.”

“Aye, Cap’n!”

She felt a hand on her shoulder, and turned. Rae’s blue eyes met hers. “I’m coming.”

“I need you to look out for the ship and crew.”

“They have Magog. And right now, I need to look out for you.”

Amaranth groaned and rubbed her face. His stubbornness about coming made sense, considering what happened last time. “Fuckin’ hells, Rae,” was all she said. “Come on.”

They all drew their weapons and on her signal boarded the deathly silent ship. Amaranth walked through the mist, eyes peeled for any strange movement, something out of place.

She spun in a slow circle in the middle of the deck. “I’m here,” she called. “Show yourself, and maybe I’ll let this end civilly.”  

“Captain,” Moat said, somewhat faintly. Her eyes were trained on the deck. Amaranth followed her gaze. Dark crimson across the wood, smeared over the deck. The smell of blood was a familiar one. For a moment a sickening panic washed over Amaranth, and she turned to Rae who saw the fear in her eyes.

“It’s not them,” he reassured softly. “I thought the same thing for a moment, but… this isn’t the same ship. This one’s a brig, two masts. The other had three.” Amaranth breathed out and nodded. The crew continued to carefully step across the ship towards the stern, maneuvering around fallen debris and pieces of wood. Amaranth paused in front of the captain’s cabin. The door was slightly ajar. She had a feeling that if something was waiting for them, it would probably have taken up residence there. Amaranth clutched her sword, and lightly kicked the door, which swung the rest of the way open with a low creak. No one was inside. The cabin itself looked ransacked. There were scatterings of old papers, a shattered mirror, some finer items like an ivory comb and jewelry box that had broken on the ground. The crew silently spread out, shuffling aside the debris, looking for clues of what could have happened.

“They were taken by surprise.” Aletha poked at a rotten half-eaten apple on the captain’s desk. It immediately crumpled into a pile of sludge, revealing maggots writhing in the putrid fruit. Aletha pulled back in disgust.

Groor picked up a crumbled paper on the floor. He looked over it for a moment, then solemnly handed it to Amaranth. Flecks of blood dotted the page. Scrawled in frantic and barely legible handwriting was a despairing sentence:

_All is lost- The Dirge has marked us_

“Well, our suspicions are confirmed then.” Amaranth let the paper drop, and drew her other sword. “And I’m done with this game. If you want to talk to me, you fuckers better do it now.”

A shadow fell over her from behind. She turned to the cabin entrance, and a large hulking figure materialized from the dark.

Amaranth readied her weapons, and heard the rest of her crew following suit.

It loomed over them, blocking their way. It was humanoid in shape, Amaranth saw it wore similar garb as them, indicating it was some sort of seafarer. It’s long sharp teeth glimmered as it grinned at them, half in shadow, numerous sharp barbs and hooks protruding from its form. But its glowing red eyes were what caused Amaranth to shudder. They were familiar. The same as the slavers. The same as the steel gray eyes of The Rat.

It was the same. It was always the same.

It looked at her as though she were just another possession. Something else it could capture and put into one of those cages she had seen on the slaver ship.

“ _I do apologize. I also must take my own precautions.”_ Its voice was strange, hissing and low, but reverberating through the ship.

“Watch yourself, devil,” Jaster spat. “We can gut you open like a day old fish if you step out of your line.”

“ _Now, now. There’s no need to resort to such tactics._ ” The devil said, seeming amused.

Amaranth shot Jaster a look, and addressed the devil. “Say your name, you’re the one who asked me here, and I ain’t givin’ you shit until I know what I’m talkin’ to.”

“ _For the purposes of this, I am sent as the Captain’s official negotiator, ranked 5_ _th_ _on board. I oversee all business transactions, and report them back to the Captain. So when our operation hits a… snag, shall we say, I am here to smooth things over for both parties.”_

“I’m the captain of the _Blinking Star._ Whatever you want to sell, I ain’t gonna buy.”  

Its red eyes were fixated on her, it bared it’s long sharp teeth in a ghastly smile. _“I wouldn’t push my luck.”_

Amaranth nearly wavered under its eyes, but shook it off. She wouldn't show her fear. She glared at it. “Cut the crap, and get to your point. Your little message said you wanted a parley.”

“ _Mmm, yes_ ,” it sighed, almost disappointed. “ _We’re offering you quarter._ ”

Amaranth snorted. It looked at her, bemused. “ _What we’re doing is quite a generous offer, all things considered. You’re the meddling half-breed that freed our prisoners. You slaughtered our suppliers, and cost us our shipment. Souls are a precious commodity. And we don’t take lightly to someone stealing them from us.”_

She heard Rae let out a sharp breath, and her crew position their weapons at the ready. The devil walked languidly across through the cabin, paying the weapons no mind, it’s horns scraping the ceiling. It stopped in front of the captain’s desk, and turned back towards them.

_“Now, let’s get to our negotiation. Normally, plundering your souls would be how we would make recompense for our loses. Your ship is already marked as our next prey.”_

“Freeing them was my decision, and mine alone,” Amaranth said steadily. “My crew wasn’t involved.”  

“Bullshit!” Moat exclaimed, “We stand with the captain-”

“Moat, shut the fuck up,” Amaranth said sharply. She turned to the devil. “I know what you bastards are about, and what you leave in your wake. Why would I ever take you up on what you offer?”

It’s grinned widened. “ _Do you know what we’re standing in? This was a pirate ship that put up a fight, like I’m sure you’re planning to. Do you know what happened to its brave crew?”_

Amaranth narrowed her eyes at it.

_“One by one, they fell to us. We painted the deck red with their blood. Then we pillaged their souls to drag them down to the Hells. That’s not the end either, oh no. We have a little tradition where we keep one of them alive. Have some fun and games before going our merry way with our new cargo.”_

She heard Aletha moan. Amaranth felt her blood run cold with growing horror.

_“And I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors, the stories. It is hopeless to resist. You can try and fight, I suppose, if you are willing to watch your crew be murdered. It would be amusing, at the very least. There is nowhere you can run. But then again, where’s the thrill of the hunt? We always find our mark.”_

_“_ So what are you asking then,” Rae said, coldly. “You’re expecting us to just surrender? To come quietly?”

It laughed, a terrible hissing grating noise. _“That would be easy for us, wouldn’t it? Either way it goes, your ship will be ours. Your souls will be ours. No matter how you fight, we will claim you._ ”

“You won’t,” Amaranth snarled at it. “I’ll die before I let that happen.” It grinned at her, a tongue running over its long jagged teeth. It took a step closer to her. She nearly took a step back under its gaze, but she held her ground.

“ _You mortals are so foolish, with your bold claims. I’ve seen it time and time again, these grand declarations of defiance. It ends the same. We will slaughter your crew. You will watch as they are taken to the Hells. One. By. One.”_ It took another step closer, leering at her. _“And you… we’ll keep you alive. Then, once we are done, you will be unrecognizable to those who knew you. A shade of who you once were. After all, dead men tell no tales, but the living spread them. A warning to those never to trifle in the affairs of what you mortals call the Devil’s Dirge.”_

 _My crew,_ she thought, _They’re going to take my crew._ Amaranth felt her heart quake in her chest, even as she stood steadfastly in front of the devil, her weapons poised to fight. It seemed like it was staring into her soul.

 _“You must know you’re in desperate straights. An impossible situation that you’ve dragged your crew into. A poor doomed captain, with the weight of their lives on her shoulders. So surely, you’d listen to an opportunity to spare them such a horrid fate?”_ It leaned towards her, teeth glistening. “ _There is is a way to save your crew. If you would like to make a deal._ ”  

Amaranth’s breath caught. “What kind of deal?”

“Don’t listen to that thing, captain,” Jaster hissed, his weapon trained on it. “It’s a fuckin’ devil.”

“ _Your soul, in exchange for your crew’s freedom. It’s simple, is it not?_ ”

She was silent, her breathing now ragged.

“Don’t you even fucking think about this,” Rae said. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

Amaranth lowered her weapons.

“If we fight, you die,” she said softly. “If we surrender, all of our souls are forfeit. If we run, they’ll hunt us. I’m the captain, and I’m responsible for my crew. And this is the only way I see that can protect you.”

“ _Your captain understands the position she’s in,_ ” the devil commented with a chuckle. It waved its clawed hand and a piece of glowing parchment appeared in it. A contract. Amaranth had a feeling the devil was waiting for this moment. And it had her.

It held it out to her. _“The terms are all here. I’m sure you’ll find them agreeable. All we need is a drop of your blood and your crew goes free.”_

Amaranth pricked her finger with the tip of her blade.

The devil grinned at her. “ _That’s it.”_

“We won’t let you do this, captain,” Aletha cried.

“’Ranth, please no,” Rae shouted in a half-sob, and lunged forward, trying to restrain her. She struggled and managed to yank herself away from him, and shoved him, hard. He stumbled into the wall. She continued walking towards the parchment the devil presented before her.

Then suddenly, it reared back in pain as a crossbow bolt lodged itself in it’s outstretched hand.

“Oopsie,” said Groor, looking at the devil square in the eye.

There was a burst of magic, as Moat aimed a spell directly at its face. “Don’t mess with our captain, you ugly sack of shit.”

It growled in rage, and whirled on the halfling, clawing him over the chest. The impact cause Groor to slam into the wall, before collapsing and laying still, bleeding from the gash.

For a second, Amaranth stared at the still form, and heard the others scream their friend’s name. Anger took hold of her, and she shouted, lunging at the devil.

Her choice was made. _Fight_. Her remaining crew let out a battle cry as they attacked it in a full onslaught.

The combat was brief, chaotic. By the end of it the devil was slain. Groor and Moat lay dead next to it in pools of their own blood. After a few moments, the devil’s body began to dissipate into black smoke.

Amaranth panted heavily, her mind strangely blank.

“We have to go!” Rae yelled. He clutched at his badly bleeding side where the creature had raked him with it’s claw.

There was a ringing in her ears. The voices of her crew sounded muffled for a moment, until she caught brief snatches of what they were saying. Jaster and Aletha were both kneeling next to the bodies of their fallen friends.

“Oh gods, oh gods, what was that thing.”

“They’re dead…both of them, in one hit, I-I couldn’t…”

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” Amaranth said, her voice breaking.

Jaster looked at her, eyes watering, still holding his friend’s body close. “They did it because they care about you, captain.”

“We won’t give up,”Aletha sniffed. She gently stroked her hand through Groor’s curly hair, now matted with blood. “They would have wanted us to fight to the end.”

Rae looked at her, his blue eyes resolute, face pale from the pain of his wound. “None of us will surrender to them. _None of us_.”

Amaranth nodded and took a deep breath, her resolve hardening. “They won’t capture us. I’ll make sure of it. We have to get back to the _Star_ and warn the others, _now,_ before more of them show up.”

“Yes, captain!”

As the small battered group hurried across the main deck, Amaranth looked out to where the storm gathered. Distant thunder echoed across the ocean, accompanied by flashes of lightning against the swirling black clouds.

The stars were gone.

\--

As they boarded the ship there were cries from the other crew members, as they saw two of them had fallen. Amaranth closed her eyes for a brief moment, steeling herself. Her hair lashed across her face in the strengthening wind and she cast her Thaumaturgy spell to be heard over it. Then she turned to the rest of the assembled crew.

“The _Devil’s Dirge_ has found us, and we’re marked.”

She looked over her crew. They awaited orders in varying states of grief, fear, and acceptance of what might be their possible fate. But all of them still held the resolve that she felt. The belief that brought them to the ship in the first place. That their freedom was something they would fight for. They would die before letting the _Dirge_ take them.

“Our options, are limited. One of them killed Groor and Moat in a matter of seconds. But they both brought us some time escape, and maybe put some distance between us and the devils.” As she looked at her crew, the glassy blank stares of the people in the cargo hold of the slaver ship came to her mind. She would never let that happen to her crew. Not while she was still alive. “I ain’t lettin’ their sacrifice go to waste. And I ain’t lettin’ those fuckers steal any soul here tonight. We’d sooner let the sea drag us to our graves, on our own terms, than let those devils drag us into the Hells!”

Her crew roared fiercely in assent, loud enough to drown out even the stormy wind.  

“All hands, cut and run,” she shouted. She knew there would be risk with that, possible damage to sails from cutting the lashings, but it would provide a quick escape, and they needed every moment they could get.

The crew sprung into action, shouting orders to each other, cutting the lines, unfurling sails. Amaranth headed to the helm of the ship, Rae close behind. The _Star_ groaned as she scraped against the other ship, pieces of wood creaking and shattering. The _Blinking Star’s_ sails billowed outward, and she picked up speed, the bow swiftly cutting through the choppy waves.

Then, a shout went up. “Off the starboard bow!”

And through the rushing mist, Amaranth saw it. The immense ship, almost mirage-like in its visage as though it wasn’t fully on their Plane. It was like a midnight black cloud. An icy cold began to encroach upon them, and her breath was becoming more visible. The _Devil’s Dirge_ had already found them.

“Shit,” she hissed, taking a few moments to find their bearing. It was heading directly towards them. The _Devil’s Dirge_ were hunters, and the _Blinking Star_ had become it’s prey.

There was a sudden blast that reverberated over the waves, and Amaranth thought in that half-second, it was too loud to be thunder. Then the ship shook with impact, and the crew shouted and ducked as the wood from the mast shattered. Amaranth felt sharp pain in her side and back as pieces of the ship splintered and lodged themselves into her. She gasped and staggered, disoriented from the sudden shock.

The _Dirge_ had fired its canon at them with horrific precision. A good portion of the hull was destroyed with the explosion. The mast didn’t fall, but it had taken great damage. Another hit like that, and they were doomed.

Were they trying to send her and her crew to their watery deaths? No, Amaranth realized, as she remembered the words of the devil. They wanted to incapacitate them. Make sure they couldn’t run. And then they would…

No. It wouldn’t catch them.

She growled, yanking a piece of wood from her side. It was damp with her blood.

“We’re turning windward,” she shouted. “Batten down the hatches!”

“Amaranth, the storm is almost on us,” Rae yelled above the wind. “The ship’s already damaged, and we may broach-”

“We’ll make it. It’s either risk the storm, or risk them.”

Rae nodded, and ran over to the rest of the crew, shouting orders as they all grabbed the rigging. The ship turned sharply into the wind, pressing forward, with the dark shimmering galleon still behind them.

Her choice sank like a milestone in her chest.  

-

In the end, it was the storm that claimed them.

The _Blinking Star_ fled, into the very heart of it. And there, they embraced their fate and let the ocean take them, a final rebellious cry against the ones who hungrily pursued them to entrap their souls.

In the end, they remained free.

-

The stay lines snapped from the mast, and the crew valiantly tried to jury rig it, but it did no good. The mast cracked, weakened from the earlier assault. It crashed through the deck of the ship, in unison with the the thunder above them. Amaranth could barely hear what was being shouted over the howling wind, could barely see or breathe with the downpour in her face. The bilge was filled and the pump broken, and they took on water at a speed that they couldn’t bail out fast enough.

The crew fought courageously in their hopeless situation, right until the very end. They said their goodbyes to one another. The dark violent waves swallowed the ship.

And it was here, that her memory became blurry again.

She remembers holding onto Rae for as long as she could, clutching one arm on the flotsam of the ship, the other wrapped around his weakened injured body, tight. She didn’t have the strength to hold his weight. She slipped down into the water with him, struggling to keep her head up, coming up and spluttering for air. She remembers him smiling at her with sad blue eyes.

“It’s okay, _mensi_.”

“No, no, fuck you, keep your fucking head above the water Rae,” she gasped and coughed. “Just hold on, please, just k-keep holding onto me-”

“It’s okay. I know you’ll keep fighting,” he said weakly. He was quiet but it was as though he were screaming, and the wind and crashing waves around them were silent.

And he let go of her, slipping beneath the water without a sound.

She was alone.

Her only thought was that she should let go of the driftwood, join her crew, her ship. Rae. It was the pact that she had forged in her soul.

And yet she clung, and she screamed. At the _Devil’s Dirge_ , the world, the gods, but mostly at herself,

and she couldn’t

stop

screaming.  

\--

Her memory was as inky and black as the waves around her for miles and miles.

-

She remembers the sand, shocking and rough and sturdy under her body, and she coughed and retched the cold salt water from her lungs. Her hands curled around the only thing that was real to her then, the small box in her pocket. She clutched it until she couldn’t anymore.

\--

She remembers someone with a kind voice and kind hands, and she thought of Rae, her parents, and she cried out deliriously for them.

She was nursed back to health, until she had regained enough strength to stand, function, speak.

The irony was, she couldn’t remember who had saved her.

\--


	9. Adrift

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Major warning for self-mutilation and suicidal thoughts. If you would like to skip it, the paragraph starts with “Some nights her drunken stupor".

Amaranth went into hiding. She fled from town to town. Perhaps from the _Devil’s_ _Dirge_ , more likely from herself, her guilt. She remembered what the devil had told her, about leaving her in the grips of madness and despair. Had she become that very thing, despite her efforts to escape? The only difference was, they didn’t have her crew. It was an ugly, horrific comfort. They had escaped the _Dirge._ But Amaranth didn’t feel a sense of satisfaction. She had made a choice, and her crew had perished because of it. Guilt-ridden sobs would wrack her body as she lay on the ground, begging them for forgiveness.

She was trapped in her own hell, but wherever they were, their souls were free.

The shadow of the phantom ship followed her, haunted her dreams. She wondered if she was still marked, or if they had left their spoils for dead, moving onto another ship.

She found she didn’t care. She had nothing left. If they found her, she would fight, and she would die.

And still she ran.

She aimlessly traveled further and further inland, to small nondescript towns and dirty taverns, where the fearful and distrustful looks were more to do with her fiendish blood than any recognition of her being a pirate. Where she would go unrecognized. Where she was nothing more than a drunk vagrant.  

It became a familiar pattern. She was kicked out of taverns after drinking until she passed out. She had mindless sex, she gambled away any money she had. Anything to bury the pain. Anything to feel numb. She would drink until her relentless undertow of thoughts stopped, and oblivion took her.  

The bottle was a traitor and companion, sweetly offering relief, then dragging her beneath intoxicating waves and wrecking her. She woke with pieces of her memory gone. The events of the previous day would slowly trickle back into her throbbing skull.

_ She awoke in a dingy back alley, shaking, rolling to her side and retching. Her body burned, she felt a bloodied lip, black eye, and bruised ribs. Ah, right, there was a man hurling vile slurs at her, and spoke of her parents even worse. She stabbed him in the chest. The other tavern-goers dragged her outside, and beat her. Somehow, she escaped. _

There would be clues around her when she woke up to the previous nights events. Cuts and bruises, a destroyed room, a stranger next to her in bed, bile in her throat, a pouch of gold in her hand.

The bottle was a finicky companion, yes, but one thing she could say was it was reliable for keeping the nightmares at bay. The first few months, the nightmares plagued her relentlessly, to the point where drinking was the only way she knew to quiet them. And without the alcohol to numb her enough to sleep, she would wake up screaming, gasping, as it felt like she was being dragged beneath the waves.  

_ The Rat was there again. She cowered away from him as he loomed over her. His leering gray eyes became a diabolic red, and she watched him change and deform until he was a hideous barbed grinning beast. He dragged her as she fruitlessly screamed and fought against him. He locked her away, and she was alone in the darkness. _

_ She held Rae’s corpse, his body water-logged and decomposing. She stared into his empty black eye-sockets, devoid of life as they stared back into hers. His arms wrapped around her, and she allowed herself to be pulled under the dark waves with him. _

_ She watched her crew die, over and over. Sometimes it was the same, other times it happened differently, but every time she couldn’t do anything to save them. No matter what choice she made, what action she did or didn’t do. It always ended the same. They would ask where she was, why she abandoned them, and she would cry out to them, _ it was all I could do, I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I couldn’t join you.

Some nights her drunken stupor would fuel her guilt. In ritual, she cut into her skin, ten cuts. Ten for her lost crew. The scars from those nights would last for years. Once in her anger, she cut too deep.

She lay on the ground of an alleyway, watching herself bleed out with a numb sort of interest.  _ I could die. I could die. I would be able to see him again. _ Then she heard his voice, as though he were right next to her.

“ _ You’ll fight, and you’ll live.” _

“ _ I know you’ll keep fighting.” _

She pulled herself off the ground, cursing and weeping. She tightened a makeshift bandage from her own clothing around her arm as a tourniquet.

“Even now, Rae,” she sobbed. “Even when you’re dead, you’re lookin’ out for me.”  

-

Traveling off the coast of Stormhaven, she heard rumors of a slaver ship whose captors were overthrown. Some of the rumors spoke of her vaguely. That there was some sort of avenger that came from the depths of the ocean to enact divine retribution. It was strange to hear something so outlandish about herself, almost humorous in a way, but as long as she wasn’t identified she didn’t care.

They were able to navigate the ship safely back to land. When she overheard the news, it was a breath of hope.  _ They’re okay. They made it back okay. They’re free. _

She held the knowledge close to her heart and clung to it. It was one of the few things she had to keep her head above water.

-

Weeks turned into months, then years.

Until one night, it wasn’t her crew who came to her. She saw herself, yellow eyes blazing with hatred, and she shrank away from who she once was.

“ _ You’re pathetic _ ,” Fury spat at her. “ _ Look at you. This wasn’t what we wanted _ .  _ This wasn’t what Rae wanted. _ ”

“I made my choice, and it’s all over. I have nothing left.”

“ _ You have your anger. Find the ones who took everything from us. Make them pay for what they’ve done. Seek redemption for what you’ve done. And you’ll make the choice again,”  _ her visage hissed, drawing her blade.  __

“ _ And again _ ,” her sword slashed over Amaranth’s arm.

“ _ And again, _ ” it sliced over her other arm.

“ _ And again, _ ” the sword plunged into Amaranth’s chest, and she screamed as she felt an excruciating pain in her heart. Fire erupted from the blade, the flames spread over her skin, and she was burning.   

“ _ Find a direction. Let us burn ourselves to the ground, rather than slowly drowning.”  _ Fury caressed her cheek, her eyes as wild as the ocean. “ _ Or else it will be as though we never left that cage _ .”

Amaranth woke in a cold sweat, jerking upward from the table she had passed out on. The barkeep looked at her, raising an eyebrow. “Was just wonderin’ if I should have checked on you to make sure you weren’t dead. Glad to know I won’t have to go through the hassle of disposin’a body tonight.”

“No,” Amaranth muttered, wiping a hand over her face. “Not yet.”

\--

She found herself back at sea. She took indiscriminate jobs as a sailor, keeping her head down, talked to no one. She denied any recognition, dodged stares that lingered too long, blended in as well as a tiefling could into the bustling port cities and sailing crews. The voices of her crew spoke to her louder now that she was close to the sea. She didn’t know if they were in her mind, if they were ghosts, if she was crazy. She didn’t care. In a strange way, it was a comfort.

She promised them she would find redemption for what she had done to them.

And then she would join them.

-

She listened for rumors of the  _ Devil’s Dirge _ . If a ship was said to have vanished, she would deliberately board a vessel with a passage close to the place of its disappearance. The storms would come and go, and she tasted the terror she had felt that night during those times. Each day she would scan the horizon, wondering of a different storm, if the devil ship would appear to claim her, the one who escaped them. It never did.

So she waited.  

And one day she saw a small listing for a merchant ship called the  _ Kraken’s Beak. _

\--

\--

The first time she realized that this was the purpose she was searching for was when she saw the hopelessness in Astoria’s eyes, the same hopelessness that was reflected in Rae’s eyes all those years ago deep in the sewers of a city.

The first time in years she felt her soul begin to catch fire again, like kindling on damp wood, was when Kriv pulled her out of that deep memory that haunted her nightly.

The first time it felt safe to call them ‘friends’, was when she and Ditto fell asleep together in Feywilds.

-

Amaranth was once kept in darkness, and she rose, and fell, and found a small ember of light again.

And she knows it won’t last. It can’t.

She knows it’s selfish to think of them as friends, because she will ultimately hurt them.

She knows she doesn’t deserve them because of that.

And she knows they’re something she’s willing to fight for.

To burn for.

\--

 


End file.
